Anathema's Abode
by Twisted Creampuff
Summary: In dark times, a covert syndicate seems doomed to lose their millennium old struggle when Sam, apprenticed to the legendary Maddie Fenton, discovers a certain dashing, yet elusive ghost hybrid who could finally ascertain victory in their secret war. DxS
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom

**Summary:** **AU, dark. **In grim times, a covert syndicate seems doomed to lose their millennia old struggle against the ghosts. Sam, a ghost hunter apprenticed to the legendary Maddie Fenton, discovers Phantom, an outlawed ghost hybrid who could finally ascertain the brotherhood's victory in their secret war. **DxS **

**Anathema's Abode**

**Prologue**

Striking blue eyes narrowed as he fingered the safety of his weapon with poorly concealed boredom. The pale half moon cast an dismal, malevolent glow over the abandoned clearing, the lack of moonlight drenching the sky in an inky expanse of ebony as the ghost hunter waited for his partner's return.

In a few more nights it would become unsafe to patrol. The enemy gained strength as the full moon approached, and for hundreds of years the brotherhood had not crossed the ghosts at the height of their power, with good reason. Even with tales of past mistakes kept fresh in their minds, the outcome was far too deadly to ever be imagined.

_'Our actions are as predictable to the enemy as the lunar cycle that governs the course of both our assaults.' _He thought darkly. _'We must change our ways before any progress in the war will ever be made.'_

Running a hand through his raven hair, he berated himself. It was not his place to dictate the actions of the brotherhood. Especially since many through the centuries had attempted to break the age old rhythm relying on the moon's vicious cycle and failed.

Any slow victories the brotherhood achieved while the moon waned was reclaimed by the specters the moment their powers were at their zenith. Even to this day and age, modern advancements in anti-ghost technology were insufficient to silence the enemy once and for all.

Concealed within sparse foliage, the faint hiss of his own breathing was the only sound he detected in the empty clearing. He reached for his communicator as he debated contacting their base. Vlad was bound to be questioning their safety if he and his partner did not return soon, and he did not want to worry his friend.

Where was his partner?

Jack's lips formed a grim line. It was unlike Maddie to be so late. Usually it was his wife who returned to the rendez-vous point first.

He allowed a small sigh to escape his lips. It had been no use trying to convince Maddie that her pregnancy would hinder their ghost hunting. The first time his wife had been with child, she had insisted on maintaining an active role in the brotherhood, right until the final month before Jasmine's birth. Jack doubted that her attitude towards carrying their second child was going to be any different. Perhaps in a fortnight he could convince her to relinquish her patrolling duty in favour of less strenuous resistance activities.

He felt his pulse rapidly quicken as he was suddenly aware of the presence of another in the clearing. From the human's clumsy, irregular strides, Jack could immediately tell that the other was either untrained in stealth, or injured.

A cold, unrecognisable sensation gripped his chest when he identified the woman stumbling painfully through the barren land, immediately leaping to his feet as he approached to assist her. Even in the dismal moonlight, Jack saw her lithe form tense, nearly doubling over as she attempted a battle stance.

"Maddie," he called out tentatively. "It's me."

"Jack." Recognition dawned on her features as she allowed herself a shuddering sigh of relief, lowering her defenses.

She swayed as she stood, and he ran towards the woman, desperate to support her frail form before she collapsed. He was disturbed to notice that she flinched as he touched her, her eyes wild.

"What happened?" He asked, gently lowering his wife's abused figure to the ground, appalled to realise the extent of her injury.

"I was ambushed." Maddie gasped as she fought to control her pain. "They have the thermos."

Despite the magnitude of the situation, Jack could not help but allow a slight smile to grace his features. Typical Maddie. His question had been directed towards the well being of his wife, yet her foremost priority was to relay the status of their mission to him.

He growled in frustration. All the good they had managed to do on the night's patrol had just been undone. While he was more concerned for Maddie's safety than returning to their leader empty handed, he knew that his wife would see the situation in a different light.

Mistaking the reason for his ire, she looked away. "I was overshadowed." She whispered in apology.

"I'm not blaming you." He reassured quietly, his fingers intertwining with her own. "Who did this to you?"

"I don't know." She re-averted her gaze, the soft lilac of her eyes meeting the strong blue of his, as she allowed her expression to soften. "But I resisted." Her bloodshot eyes narrowed in an almost feral manner. "I could not let them lay a finger on our unborn son."

She clutched at her swollen belly protectively. Despite her condition, she seemed to be more concerned for her unborn child than herself. "I should have listened to you, Jack." She implored. " Forgive me for endangering our child."

"You've been seriously hurt." Her husband said gently. "Let's get you back to the base."

"_No_." She hissed.

That single word froze the very blood in Jack's veins. The voice that he knew and loved had been replaced by another sound entirely, edged with the inhuman vibrato of the supernatural that human vocal chords could never evoke.

Maddie... his wife was still possessed.

"Fight it." He urged, clutching at her shoulders as he shook her roughly, as though he could dispel the ghost from within her by sheer force. "_Fight it, _Maddie."

Her eyes seemed to glow a deathly green as she fought the demon for control, as her face twisted into vile contortions Jack had never seen on Maddie's normally attractive features. His wife - her body retched, holding up her now clawed hands towards the sky in the attitude of prayer.

Jack fought back the welling tears of panic as he heard the continuous cracking of Maddie's vertebral column, her back arching as the spirits furthered their mockery, bending her spine past the limit of what was humanly possible, as a single, chilling thought crossed his mind - Would his wife survive the possession?

He forced himself to stop thinking of the most wretched of possibilities as he cradled Maddie's convulsing form, as desperation drove him onwards when strength failed, running in the direction of the brotherhood's headquarters, not caring if they were seen.

She struggled savagely in his grasp as they approached their base, and for one chilling moment, Jack Fenton feared the worst.

"I cannot enter, Jack." She rasped in protest. "It is not proper."

He was relieved that Maddie's voice was her own.

"Propriety can be damned." Her husband asserted firmly. "Getting you to safety is my first priority."

"I refuse to defile sacred ground." She insisted stubbornly, attempting to claw her way out his grip, despite her worsening condition.

"I am just as much to blame as you are," He tightened his grip on her svelte form. "I will never leave you."

Maddie's bloody form slumped as she allowed her body the luxury of rest for the first time in hours, finally permitting the sobs of pain and fear for her child that she had been suppressing to wrack her small frame.

He was unsure as to what shocked him more. The sudden fragility of his usually strong, independent wife, or her recent possession. His wife had always been the more adept ghost hunter of the pair.

The thought that Maddie could die before him had never before crossed his mind.

Jack's eyes hardened with determination. "The ghosts responsible will pay."

He captured her lips with his own, parting them softly as his ministrations purged the acrid, metallic taste of blood from the interior of her mouth.

"As it is, I am no longer of any use to the brotherhood." Maddie stroked her husband's cheek, the overwhelming pity in her amethyst eyes was for his expense, not her own. "If not for Daniel, I would ask you to kill me now."

"You can be cured." Jack coaxed, stroking her hair as he pressed his lips to the corners of her amethyst eyes to stop the flow of her tears. "Even this is not beyond exorcism."

He would never be able to bring himself to kill Maddie. Even if his wife was possessed by Pariah Dark himself.

"With merely three nights until the full moon, how do they plan to exorcise the demons from within me, Jack?" She asked with a bitter laugh. "For all we know, I could already be one of them."

**Author's notes:** Sorry that the first installment was so short, but I figured a prologue wasn't supposed to be clocking five thousand words my as **Metanoia **chapters do. This will probably end up to be quite an epic for me, and I only hope that I am not taking on too much too soon.

I apologise that I seem to be updating everything _but_ **Metanoia**. However, I figured that if I forced myself to start my new fics, I would be far less likely to procrastinate, since **Anathema's Abode** will probably take over **Metanoia **as my main fic once it is completed.

Many thanks to _BlueMyst19_, my _lovely, lovely, lovely _beta who has finally returned!:D I love you!

Thank you for reading, and please do let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!


	2. Arc One: Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom.

**Anathema's Abode**

**  
**

**Chapter 1**

"Sam, on your left!"

Samantha Manson bit back as a curse as she dove for cover, the ghost hunter's lithe form disappearing into the shadows of the secluded alleyway.

"That was close." Valerie Gray breathed, unfurling crimson lacquered fingers from the trigger of her ecto blaster, allowing herself to lower her guard as the ghost threat disappeared from their view.

Above them, the barely visible half moon cloaked itself behind grey clouds, casting murky beams of moonlight into the black sky.

"How are things looking, Tucker?" Sam whispered under her breath. At this rate, the chances of a successful capture tonight seemed slim.

"West side's clear." Her team mate affirmed. "No one else has run into any real trouble yet."

"They're getting better at deactivating our traps." Valerie grumbled, as she rewired the portable thermos surreptitiously concealed behind the dumpster on the alleyway floor.

"It's just as well we keep coming up with new inventions." Tucker provided offhandedly, and Sam could hear the familiar lightning fast tapping of keys in the background through her earpiece.

"We have our superiors to thank for that." Valerie supplied, as she continued calibrating the capturing device.

"_And_ me." Their tech operative provided, a note of smugness entering his voice. "Where would Lancer be without his favourite apprentice?"

"His _only_ apprentice." Sam corrected, grinning.

"Same difference. I was still his first choice."

"After Jasmine Fenton, you mean." Valerie jibed.

"I was her replacement. Previous apprentices don't count. Besides, what would Sam do without those anti-intangibility combat boots that she's obsessed with?" Tucker maintained, not appreciating the belittlement of his abilities.

The rapid clacking of keys intensified, a comforting, familiar sound in the stillness of the night. "So aren't you going to ask me how my date with Star went?" The techno geek asked, unperturbed.

"Not now Tucker." Sam murmured absently into her mouthpiece as she assisted her partner in recharging the ghost trap. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"With a techie like me behind the scenes, that's never happening." Sam could practically feel her friend's grin, even through the communicator. "I could detect any high level ghosts a mile away."

Sam rolled her eyes. Among her peers, Tucker was beyond doubt the best tech operative she could have been assigned. It was unfortunate that he delighted in talking constantly on field missions. Typically about himself.

Sam opened her mouth to retort, but her partner got there first.

"Like the four ghosts that just went straight past us?" Valerie Gray inquired wryly. "If Sam had been a metre further away from cover, we would have been seen."

"Those ghosts were hardly high level." Tucker snorted dismissively. "Even _I_ could have taken them."

"I'd like to see you try." Sam grinned as Valerie shot her a significant look that clearly said, _'Why are we even friends with him?'_

Whatever outsiders would assume, the Sam knew she wouldn't trade her team mates for the world. Despite how abrasive towards Tucker that Valerie could be, and as obnoxious as said techno geek occasionally was, they were still her best friends. The extreme liberties they took with each other were those of long standing friendship, rather than spite.

Besides, Sam was certain that Valerie's attitude towards Tucker was nothing more than an act on her part. She had seen the chemistry between the pair for years, now. However, Sam knew that a relationship between Tucker and Valerie would never be initiated until Tucker finally mustered the courage to ask Valerie out on a date, and Valerie finally swallowed enough of her pride to admit that she was soft on Tucker Foley, of all the men in the brotherhood.

The stillness of the night air was once again interrupted by Tucker, in yet another a superfluous attempt to make conversation.

"So did I tell you about the girl from Sector Three-"

"When did we ever give you any implication that we were even the slightest bit interested about hearing about your latest failed dating exploit?" Valerie snorted.

"Tucker- I swear if it wasn't regulation to have our earpieces in, I'd turn you off." Sam replied in mock exasperation, as she allowed herself a grin.

"And miss hearing my dulcet tones?"

"Just shut up and get the trap back online." Valerie retorted, reloading her weapon.

"Already one step ahead of you." Their tech operative quipped, self satisfaction evident in his voice.

Sam rose, ridding her hands of the grime and filth from the alleyway ground onto her black combat trousers, leaving twin dirty streaks on her dark stealth suit. "In that case, I believe our work here is done."

"How are you girls doing?" Her mentor's voice crackled through Sam's earpiece, ending the teenagers' banter.

"Not too badly." Valerie shrugged. "Ghost activity's pretty high tonight, but so far we haven't spotted any of the higher levels we've been keeping tabs on."

"Where's Jack and Vlad?" Sam inquired.

"East Side." Maddie replied. "Lancer's detected the Fright Knight. They're laying low for a while."

"That ghost is up to something." Valerie's eyes narrowed. "He hasn't been this active in a while."

"Whatever it is, we'll make sure he doesn't succeed." Sam affirmed. "Pariah must be getting pretty mad at him, especially after all his recent failures. With luck, we're soon not going to have to worry about him."

"The ghost king might replace him with something worse." Her partner pointed out grimly.

"True." Maddie agreed. "Better an adversary that the brotherhood are familiar with."

"You're not being serious." Sam voiced her disagreement. "There's no way that monster can be allowed to rampage Amity Park unopposed."

"The Fright Knight is probably about as powerful as Pariah's elite get." Tucker added. "If we take him down, I don't think we're going to have half as much to worry about."

"At the rate the war's progressing, the brotherhood is going to be eliminated by the end of our lifetimes." Valerie's eyes narrowed in displeasure. "We need new tactics. And fast."

"When did you kids decide to join the council?" Maddie cut in, half jokingly. "Leave the decisions to us. Right now, you are of most use to us in the field."

Despite the light tone of her mentor's tone, Sam could sense the bone deep weariness in Maddie's voice at having to once again discuss a topic that the council had argued over for months with no advancement. Maddie was eager to adopt a more aggressive defense against the ghosts, involving slightly risky tactics that her advisors refused to endorse.

"We wouldn't have it any other way." Sam agreed, steering the subject away from the topic of her mentor's frustration. She and Valerie had endured years of grueling training to finally be allowed out on the streets on patrol, taking the offensive. There was no way that she was going to give up her chance to make a difference to discuss war tactics with middle aged veterans.

"I expect you back to headquarters safely by three am sharp." Her mentor reminded them. "I have enough on my mind worrying if Vlad will be able to stop my my husband from getting too carried away."

"I'll keep an eye on the time." Tucker acknowledged.

"Is Jack trying out a new invention of his tonight?" Valerie asked, grinning.

"Fortunately not." Maddie replied, with poorly concealed relief. "I managed to convince him that perhaps the field wasn't the best place to test run the ecto skeleton."

"Perhaps not." Sam acknowledged, mirroring her partner's grin, which faded the moment she glanced at the time on her communicator. "We should probably go if we want to get anything done tonight."

"Don't let me hold you up." Maddie agreed. "And girls?" She added, almost as an afterthought. "This is our last night of hunting for a while. Make sure you give them something to remember."

"Don't we always?" Valerie smirked.

"Roger." Sam replied, ending the transmission.

"I refuse to return empty handed." Valerie declared, pushing dark ringlets of hair off her face.

Sam nodded, accordant. As always, her mentor was nothing short of inspirational.

Madeline Fenton. The only ghost hunter in the history of the brotherhood to survive possession. She was a living legend. Almost two decades after the incident, her mentor was still revered the entirety of the brotherhood.

The occurrence of their leader's possession had not been without lasting effects, however. The ectoplasmic shock that she received while resisting the ghosts' overshadowing abilities had permanently ingrained a small portion of ectoplasmic energy in Maddie's being, leaving her prone to sudden bursts of inhuman strength, and short periods of uncontrolled levitation. It was even rumoured that her eyes glowed green when angered.

Sam grinned, having witnessed the wrath of her mentor first hand. If only those rookies knew how close to the truth they actually were.

As it was, Maddie was no longer fit for field missions. When her mentor's predecessor was killed in action almost a decade ago, Maddie had been elected by a practically unanimous vote.

As passionate as her mentor was about the extermination of ghosts, Sam knew that Maddie would doubtlessly relinquish her position as leader of the brotherhood for one thing. Or rather, one person. The son she lost almost two decades ago.

Sam didn't know much about Daniel Fenton. Jack and Maddie never spoke of him. But she knew that Maddie blamed herself for allowing her son to suffer the brunt of the possession while she survived, and that her mentor would never be able to forgive herself for being unable to protect him.

Valerie confessed that she found it odd, how their leader was so attached to the memory of a child that she never knew. Then again, her best friend shared much of Vlad Master's detached personality regarding relationships.

Sometimes, Sam wondered if she and her partner would have turned out differently if they had switched mentors. She contemplated if Valerie would have unconsciously imitated Maddie Fenton instead of acquiring more of Vlad's personality with each passing lunar cycle. Unlike her partner, Sam respected Maddie, but her deference to her mentor stopped short of the blind admiration Valerie had for Vlad Masters.

She started, caught unaware by the sudden beeping of one of Tucker's homemade tracking devices. She glanced at the screen. There seemed to be several ghosts in the nearby vicinity.

"Tuck, are you getting this?" Valerie inquired, all traces of her previous fatigue evaporating.

"Yeah." Their friend replied. "They're fairly low level, so I don't think you're going to run into any problems capturing them."

"Hopefully not." Sam's lips pursed into a grim line as she ensured that her reloads were within easy reach.

Although naturally aggressive by nature, Sam typically found herself being the cautious one in her ghost hunting partnership with Valerie, purely due to her partner's complete inability to restrain herself. Someone had to make sure that they didn't end up doing anything stupid.

"You ready?" Valerie asked her partner, releasing the safety on her weapon.

"Yeah." Sam nodded in reply, hugging the shadows as she navigated her way out into the empty street.

-

Masked by the inky sky, a dark figure with striking white hair observed them, unbeknown to the ghost hunters below.

Were these the brotherhood's new recruits? He raised an eyebrow in mirth. If the resistance hoped to have any chance of halting the advance of Pariah's empire, they would have to do a lot better than sending little girls to the front line.

He dully noted as a human at the end of the street, undoubtedly a civilian, gazed contemplatively out of her window, admiring the view of the town in the sparse moonlight, unable to stop himself from finding dry amusement in the fact that she was completely unaware of the silent battle occurring all around her.

In such circumstances, he had always thought it ironic that the period when the supernatural were most powerful was the same night that most civilians regarded as holding the most arcane beauty. Perhaps ignorance was truly bliss.

It had always intrigued him, why the brotherhood continued to fight against such ridiculous odds. Surely the humans knew that they could never hope to equal the brute force commanded by Pariah's empire. After all, they were physically inferior to his kin. Combined with their short lifespans, whatever experience a human gained in battling against ghosts was quickly lost to the ravages of time.

He pulled forward the cowl of his dark cloak, concealing his features beneath the hood as he continued to regard the pair of girls engaged in battle with a couple of low level ghosts. What did they hope to achieve by sunrise? He had always thought that there was more to the brotherhood than the sporadic capturing of weak ghosts. Perhaps he had been mistaken. Although at the very least, their bravery was commendable, that they dared to oppose those that were their superiors.

It seemed strange to think that the frail, human girl before him and her accomplice were ghost hunters. Compared to veterans such as the fabled Madeline Fenton, surely she could not be considered a threat. But the humans' resourcefulness had surprised him on more than one occasion. Despite their physical weakness, they had still managed to halt Pariah Dark from completely conquering Amity Park for more than a century.

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. The humans appeared to have invented some form of gauntlets that negated his kin's advantage of intangibility. Yet another reason for him to keep out of the brotherhood's way.

He started as a pale stream of frost brushed past his lips and escaped into the night air, forewarning him of the arrival of the Fright Knight's subordinates.

If pair before him did not leave the area, they would soon be outnumbered five to one. Although they had proven adept at defending themselves against low leveled paranormal beings, he knew that they would stand no chance against the Fright Knight's minions.

The ghost's lips pursed into a grim line as he observed the humans, who maintained oblivious to the fact that they were about to be ambushed. All the resourcefulness in the world would not save them if they did not take their leave immediately.

-

"Great work, Val." Sam allowed herself a grin of satisfaction as the last of the spectres were drawn into the bright swirling vortex of the thermos. They had easily done Maddie proud tonight. The ghosts they had captured might not have been high level, but they were still valuable test subjects for the tech department to experiment on.

"Well done, guys." Tucker congratulated. "Maddie's definitely going to be pleased with this."

"There's not much else we can do tonight." Valerie conceded, her voice barely above a whisper to avoid detection.

"We should go." Sam agreed.

"Before you do, can you check up on that containment device near North Street?" Tucker requested. "I'm not sure how much help my improvements actually were."

"Sure, no prob-"

Sam's reply was interrupted by the sudden, unexpected plummeting of the temperature in the alleyway.

"You're not going anywhere, human." An eerie voice rasped.

Maddie's apprentice tensed, spinning as she turned to face the newcomers.

"Guys?" Tucker called out tentatively. He was used to being ignored on field missions, but never when they were discussing something important.

"What do you want with us?" Valerie demanded, as dark eyebrows lowered to frame her narrowing eyes.

Sam grimly noted the presence of a dark purple flame on the skeleton's helmets, the Fright Knight's insignia. They was dealing with the ghost king's troops.

"What do we have here?" Their leader rasped, the beginnings of a smirk forming over a fleshless visage. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't safe for little girls to be out after curfew?"

Sam froze, grabbing Valerie's wrists to draw her partner towards her. There was strength in numbers, and she had no intention of being separated from her partner.

"The only reason Amity Park's unsafe is because of _monsters _like you." Valerie spat, blinding ectoplasmic energy surging around the fists of her ghost gauntlets as she activated them.

"Guys, what's happening?" Their tech operative yelled, panicked by the lack of response on his teammates' part.

"I cannot believe they fell for the bait." Another chortled, a dry, chafing sound rising from the back of the skeleton's throat that made Sam feel sick. His laughter reminded her of the scraping of sandpaper on bone. "Our liege will be pleased."

"Sam? Val?" Tucker tried again, his voice laced with desperation.

Sam was desperate to activate a signal flare, to inform the brotherhood of the magnitude of their situation. However, she knew the ghosts would attack the moment she reached into the pocket of her stealth suit, for fear that she would draw new weapons to aid her defense.

"Back off, ghost scum." Valerie threatened, gesturing to the thermos slung across her waist. "Unless you want to end up like your kin."

"You're not going to be able to subdue all of us with that pathetic contraption." The Fright Knight's lieutenant mocked. "Especially when it's already filled with the inferior half sentients that you just wasted your time capturing."

He extended a hand, and Sam winced as the earpiece of her communicator, formerly embedded into the interior of the shell of her left ear, was ripped off in single fluid motion. A hiss of pain from Valerie told her that her partner's communication device had also just been removed. Sam fought a fresh rising wave of fear as the minuscule electronic devices levitated towards the spectre, coming to rest in the palm of his hand. She had not been able to contact Tucker before, but his voice, however panicked, had provided a source of comfort to her and Valerie. She wondered if she would survive past tonight to ever hear her tech operative's voice again.

"When will humans ever learn that all the technology in the world will never save them?" The spectre closed his fist, crushing the chips within his palm.

Sam glared as her gaze fixated on her assailant's hand, fervently hoping with all her might that the sparking electronic devices had shocked him in some way, no matter how small. Tucker had been so proud of those earpieces.

"We'll start with the smaller one." The lieutenant commanded, gesturing at Sam.

It was going to be a process of elimination, Sam realised. First they would kill her, then Valerie. Yet she held savage satisfaction in the fact that she and her partner were being viewed as a genuine threat.

The tension was so thick in the air that Sam could practically taste it, as both sides waited for the other to make the first move. Valerie's lips pursed into a grim line, the expression on her partner's face mirroring exactly how she felt. No matter how they approached the situation, the odds were stacked against them.

Sam felt a slight sting on the interior of her ear, where her earpiece had once been so carefully grafted. Beads of blood were collecting at her ear lobe, slowly dripping onto the cracked cement floor. Why hadn't Tucker's technology forewarned them of the ghosts' presence?

Suddenly, their leader was upon her so fast that she barely knew what was happening. A skeletal knee crushed painfully into her stomach as she was thrown back several metres, the wind knocked out of her as she hit the alleyway floor. Sam ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, and grimaced at the coppery taste of blood.

"Get away from her." Valerie screamed, hurling a ray after ray of artificial ecto energy at the spectres.

"Don't worry." One of them mocked. "You're next."

Valerie's eyes narrowed, insulted that they had chosen to ignore her for the moment. They would soon regret that decision, she decided with grim determination, running towards her partner.

"What are you doing?" Sam yelled, fear for her partner overriding her own blind panic as she rose to her feet. "_Run_."

"Are you joking?" Valerie's eyes flashed. "I'm not leaving you."

"Better one of us than both of us." She insisted, fear gnawing on her insides. Soon, her partner would be captured if she could not convince her to leave.

"_Someone _has to tell Maddie what happened." Sam shifted her gaze towards her shattered earpiece that lay abandoned on the ground, wishing that her communicator had been spared.

Valerie stopped and hesitated, unwilling to leave Sam at the mercy of the enemy. Her friend could be long dead by the time she returned with help.

Sam felt as though she being crushed by the weight of her partner's hesitation. "Val, stop being stupid. _Run_!"

"I will come back for you." Valerie's eyes narrowed, as if filled with fresh resolve. "I promise."

Sam willed her partner with all her might not to look back as Valerie tore her eyes away from the scene before her in a burst of determination and sprinted in the opposite direction. The fading sound of Valerie's combat boots on the aged concrete of the alleyway floor was oddly comforting, despite Sam's current plight.

Sam released a breath she hadn't realised that she had been holding, relief flooding her system. Now all she had to worry about now was herself. At least Vlad would be spared Maddie's plight of losing an apprentice tonight. Valerie Gray was far too valuable for the brotherhood to lose.

"Splitting up?" Their leader taunted. "You've just made our job twice as easy, little girl."

The ghost hunter ignored the jibe, allowing herself a long, shuddering intake of breath as she flexed her fingers, adrenaline surging through her veins as she powered up the Fenton Ghost Gauntlets. Her lips pursed into a grim line as the twin metallic bracelets extended across her knuckles, glowing with artificial spectral energy. She was going to have to plan her every move with hairline precision if she even wanted to merit herself the slightest chance of surviving until Valerie returned.

The first of her attackers lunged towards her with a snarl, overconfident about his prospects of defeating a lone human female. Sam crouched, lowering her centre of gravity before tumbling fluidly onto her back, transferring her weight to her arms. Using the spectre's own momentum against him, her heavy combat boots smashed into his chest, slamming the ghost into the alleyway wall behind her, ignoring the sharp pain that shot across her back where she had hit the floor. She'd worry about minor injuries later, if she survived past tonight.

Not knowing when she would next be able to break their ranks, Sam seized the opportunity to retrieve her partner's abandoned ecto blaster. Gathering the last of her ecto grenades from her pouch, she silently cursed herself for wasting them while capturing low level ghosts, when inspiration struck.

She could make use of the ghost trap that she and Valerie had set up several blocks away. If Sam could keep on the run until then, her chances of survival would be drastically improved. Granted, the capacity of the capturing device was not great enough to hold all of her assailants, but at least she would be given a fighting chance.

"Tiring already, human?" Their leader provoked, seemingly completely recovered from her attack.

Sam suppressed the sick feeling of dread at the pit of her stomach.

"Don't underestimate me." She hissed, adopting a battle stance as she detonated the explosives in rapid succession, deliberately ensuring that her aim was wide to the spectre's right as she attempted to steer them out of the alleyway, towards the trap that Tucker had activated in the neighbourhood.

"Is that the best you can do, little girl? I expected more." The ghost drawled.

Sam kept her features blank, refusing to acknowledge their mocking jeers regarding her aim. Let them think that she was a bad shot. It would probably serve her best in the long run.

God, she hoped Valerie would return soon.

As her assailants closed in on her from all four corners, Sam stood her ground, unaware of the phantom observer silently noting her struggles from the rooftops above.

**Author's Notes:** I'm sorry for the long delay between updates. But now that exams are over, I'm going to try my very best to keep you entertained! That wasn't the most subtle of cliffhangers, I admit. I bet you all can see what happens next;) Chapter 2's already been written. I actually wrote it before chapter 1. But only because I'm cool like that.

**Many thanks to: **_Sweeteen19, katiesparks, Henshi-anichan, kia, Sasia93, Linda, Secret Spy Guy, raven luvan, yuuki, Koccinelle, vladimir's disease _and _FunkyFish1991_ for your lovely, lovely reviews that kept me going:D

Thanks also go to_ Sasia_ for beta work, and having to put up with the impossible multitude of incomplete sentences and typos that I come up with while half asleep.

Hope you liked it, and please leave a review so that I feel motivated to update:D

**Hugs and Kisses**

**Twisted**


	3. Discoveries

**Disclaimer: **Regrettably, I do not own Danny Phantom.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 2**

**Discoveries**

Hidden on the rooftops above Sam, her observer's unnaturally coloured green eyes narrowed in ire, the only feature of his visage visible in the sparse moonlight. The Fright Knight's subordinates were in _his_ haunt, where they had no right to be. It had previously been agreed that he would not impede the movements of Pariah's empire if they kept out his way, a pact that Pariah Dark had obviously forgotten. He usually turned a blind eye to insignificant trespasses into his small section of Amity Park, but never before had there been an such a blatant intrusion into his territory on Pariah's minion's part.

Witnessing girls' loyalty to one another had made a refreshing change to the typical grim outlook of the town, and its depressed, submissive citizens. Most civilians, unaware of the secret resistance battling their oppressors to regain control of Amity Park, had long since given up hope after generations of futile effort on their part.

He didn't care much for the ridiculous concept of honour, but taking on a single human girl five on one was ridiculous odds. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the scene below him, silently impressed. A single human girl seemed to be giving the Fright Knight's henchmen a fair amount of difficulty subduing her. Pariah's right hand man was apparently going to great lengths to secure the capture of ghost hunters. Was the ghost king actually being threatened by the existence of the brotherhood?

He shook his head, appalled by his own musings. The ghost king could not be felled by mere humans. It was most likely that Pariah Dark had something big planned for the total conquest of Amity Park, and needed to subdue the brotherhood once and for all before launching his final assault on the town.

-

"Get away from me," Sam growled, the barrel of her ecto blaster smoking. Although the ghost hunter's chances of survival were slim, she refused to go down without a fight.

She made no sound as the weapon was roughly torn from her grip, refusing to scream even as a pair of the ghosts slammed her against the alleyway wall, eliciting a sharp pain at the base of her skull. The ghost hunter grimaced. She was ready to bet that her skull had just been fractured.

"What do we have here?" He grabbed Sam roughly by the hair, exposing her features to the eerie glow of the moonlight. "A pretty human is such a rarity."

"I reckon she could give that Arabian wench a run for her money," his accomplice chuckled.

Sam's eyes narrowed, colour flooding to her cheeks in her outrage. Even moments before death, she refused to be regarded in such a fashion by monsters.

Summoning the last vestiges of her strength, she struck him hard in the chest, wincing as the backlash of her kick caused her to hit the wall in for the second time in minutes. Sam hissed sharply from the sudden explosion of pain as a second blow to the back of her already fractured skull made her vision swim.

"You little-" Their leader growled, thrusting his weapon to the ground as he brandished the razor edges of his bare fingers.

Suddenly, Sam was unbearably aware of her vulnerability, with the pale expanse of her neck bared to the spectre. It would be so simple for him to end her life. Just one single incision at her jugular and it would all be over. He was going to kill her, and she would be powerless to stop it.

It was then that Sam accepted her fate. She was going to die.

Was that the last opportunity she would ever be given to injure the spectres as they had hurt her people? She hadn't even managed to knock him down. Sam felt small, pathetic, insignificant.

It was aggravating that death would claim her before she had made a significant contribution to the brotherhood. The majority of her time in the syndicate had been spent training under Maddie. She, Valerie and Tucker had barely been on the field for a year, since her seventeenth birthday.

Because of how long it took to train apprentices, Maddie had to be careful to choose those with the greatest potential. Sam felt ashamed that Maddie had wasted valuable years of her life training her. At least she was a mistake that would be short lived.

But one thing was clear in her mind. If she died tonight, she sure as hell wasn't becoming one of _them_.

She hissed as the sharp edge of his claws raked across her already tender abdomen, slicing three parallel lacerations deep into her flesh. Sam blinked back tears as she tried to ignore the blinding pain searing from her stomach, or the gushing of hot blood from the incisions.

Sam averted her gaze, fighting the nausea from the sight of her own stomach being torn open. If she detached herself sufficiently from reality, she could pretend that none of this was actually happening, that the crippling pain wasn't real.

She had yet to succeed.

-

Slender white eyebrows lowered to frame luminescent green eyes, expressing his disgust at the scene before him.

It was a pity that such a spirited human girl would fall victim to the Fright Knight's minions so early in her young life. Someone like her would certainly prove a thorn in the empire's side later in her life. She would have been an amusing subject for him to keep his eye on.

He shook his head as a ridiculous idea crossed his mind. Perhaps he should scare away her attackers. His mere presence would be sufficient to shock her assailants into abandoning their assault.

After all, he _was_ the enigmatic Phantom, an urban legend even most paranormal beings believed to be nothing more than propaganda on the ghost king's part. Most of his kin would not understand why a ghost who was said to be the Fright Knight's equal in greatness would choose solitude over glory at Pariah Dark's side.

He growled, annoyed at his own empathy towards the girl. He wanted nothing to do with Pariah's senseless war. Was it too much to ask that he was kept out of it? If he were to defend the ghost hunter, his actions could be interpreted by Pariah as an act of rebellion. If not for his strength, and his habit of keeping out of the empire's way, the ghost king would have long since commanded the Fright Knight to return to slay him.

His last engagement with the midian had ended in a bloody draw five years ago. Although a short time for one who lived forever, but he wasn't about to reveal his true age to empire. If his kin were made aware of his unusual ..._condition_, it seemed unlikely that he would live past sunrise, even though his abilities advanced faster than any other ghosts that he had ever encountered. Except perhaps Pariah. But he had no intention of ever facing the ghost king in battle, especially when he was rumoured to make use of magical artifacts to magnify his powers.

He would bide his time, and merely observe how the scene before him played out. If he was lucky, it could turn out that the girl wouldn't require his help after all.

_Although..._

He supposed his intervention could be seen as an effort to defend his territory, that rescuing the girl had nothing to do with his assault. Besides, the Fright Knight was more than clear on the matter that Phantom wanted as little to do with the war as possible, that he was on no one's side but his own. His standing with Pariah's empire were unlikely to turn ugly over the small matter of a human girl. Perhaps it was time that he stopped tolerating the Pariah's obvious disregard for their pact, despite the fact that he had long since declared neutrality in the war.

Still, he would rather not make his presence known. He had survived the detection of the brotherhood so far, a situation that he was not eager to rectify. He had no incentive to save the girl. It was sheer foolishness to rescue a ghost hunter who would betray him at the first opportunity she was given.

He owed nothing to either sides, and they owed nothing to him. There was no reason for him to act on this ridiculous whim.

-

"Have you had enough?" The ghost taunted gleefully, cupping Sam's chin in order to force her to view the sight of her own blood caked on his hands.

"You're disgusting," she spat, determination renewing.

Her perpetrator scowled, raising a hand to wipe the flecks of spit coupled with blood off his face.

"Fiery, isn't she?" Another chuckled darkly, toying with his weapon for emphasis.

"_Too _fiery," their leader scowled. "At any rate, I have my doubts about bringing her to the Fright Knight. One as young as she is will hardly be informed of the brotherhood's plans."

"Our master will not be pleased." The Fright Knight's subordinate pursed his lips into a grim line. "We have failed to extract information from the rebels for nearly a month."

Sam glared at her attackers, pretending not to notice the steady stream of warm blood trickling down the side of her leg from the wound, unsure if she should feel insulted, or relieved by the fact that the spectres were so convinced that she would share no affiliation with Maddie just because of her youth.

"Goodbye, little human," the ghost hissed, with a grin on his features that Sam could not classify as anything other than perverse.

Lavender eyes squeezed shut with dread as she whispered an apology to the brotherhood for her failures, waiting for the blow that never came.

_'What the-' _

Sam started as she heard her captor's unexpected scream of anguish. The ghost hunter winced as she was roughly thrown to the ground, as the spectre abruptly relinquished his iron grip around her throat.

Looking up, the ghost hunter was astonished to notice a tall, dark clad figure with shocking white hair standing over her, seemingly defending her prone form.

"What are you doing in my territory?" The stranger snarled, as blinding green ectoplasmic energy began charging at his fingertips. "Has Pariah forgotten the terms of our truce?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" The Fright Knight's lieutenant sneered, nursing his injured side. "You are in no position to question my authority."

The newcomer's eyes flared vivid green as emerald flames erupted around them, illuminating the alleyway. "Even your master would think twice before crossing me, an example I suggest you follow. Take your leave now, and you will not be harmed."

"We have you outnumbered five to one," the skeletal ghost hissed. "It is you who should be wary, _traitor_."

The white haired ghost's lips pursed into a grim line. "You will come to regret that decision."

Sam shielded her eyes as the youthful ghost disappeared in a flash of blinding white light, reappearing abruptly in front of one of Sam's assailants as he lunged towards the spectre, crushing its skull under his grip as they slammed into the ground.

The remaining ghosts shifted uncomfortably, unsettled by the sickening crunch that seemed to reverberate in the back street. The traitor stood amongst his victim's rapidly disintegrating remains, his entire silhouette seemingly engulfed by ghastly spectral energy.

The ghost hunter's eyes widened, her mind reeling in light of the new revelation as she observed the gory feud unfolding before her. It had been previously unknown to the brotherhood that the ghosts suffered disputes among themselves.

The skeletal ghost hadn't even had time to react. Whichever clan the newcomer belonged to, the ghost hunter was prepared to bet that they would pose a severe threat to Pariah's empire, if even a dozen of the white haired ghost's kin were half as strong as he was.

Her assailants, as though suddenly coming to their senses, raised their weapons and began to retaliate, but it was plain to Sam that they were severely outmatched. It seemed impossible that a supernatural being this powerful had evaded the detection of the brotherhood for so long. With the abilities that he had displayed, Sam was willing to bet that the ghost before her, despite the youthful appearance he had chosen to adopt, was at least half a millennium old.

Sam paused, overwhelming sadness enveloping her as she realised that the brotherhood would never receive the information that she had to offer. There was no way that she was going to make it out of this alleyway alive.

Was she to be saved by this newcomer, only to become victim to an even grimmer fate at his hands? Her breath quickened, as she eyed her ecto blaster, abandoned in the far corner of the alleyway. If it turned out that her savior intended to kill her himself, she refused to go down without a fight.

Sam struggled to rise, cursing the crippling pain in her abdomen inhibiting any sudden movements on her part. Her vision swam from blood loss, as desperation overtook her. All the training in the world would not have prepared her to defend herself, especially in her current weakened state, from a spectre who seemed to be the Fright Knight's equal in power.

It seemed strange that a half a dozen powerful ghosts would defer so strongly to the single being before them. The ghost hunter cursed the darkness that surrounded them as she endeavoured to memorise the youthful ghost's features.

"_Mercy._" Her assailants begged, prostrating themselves on the ground before the newcomer. "We were merely after the girl. We were under no intention of trespassing."

"It was agreed that everything in this area I owned." The spectre's striking green eyes narrowed, the only feature of his countenance visible in the darkness. "That includes the humans, and other mortal livestock in the area. You had no right to hunt what is mine."

Indignation struck Sam as she opened her mouth to argue, appalled by the arrogance of the ghosts, that in their eyes, humans were perceived to be no more than animals. However, as she struggled to raise her head to retort the statement, a single look from her savior willed her to let the comment slide. Perhaps it was best that she did not draw any more attention to herself. It was strange, the placating comfort exuded from those unnatural green eyes, even though his was the face of the enemy.

"But the Fright Knight has never informed us-"

"The failure on your liege's part to inform you of our truce is none of my concern." Her savior interrupted coldly, the beginnings of an ecto blast forming as the eerie green energy danced at his fingertips.

Sam attempted to sit up, hoping to observe more of the powerful ghost's abilities. If he intended to let her live, she was determined to relay every last scrap of information to Maddie.

The ghost hunter froze as she became aware of the sudden blackness that surrounded her vision, despite the fact that she was certain that her eyes were open. _She couldn't see. _Sam fought a new wave of rising panic. Had she been blinded?

The ghost hunter gasped futilely as an upwelling of clotted blood abruptly obstructed her airway, rendering her unable to breathe properly as she coughed desperately to remove the blockage that was denying her of much needed oxygen. Perhaps her lungs had collapsed.

It disgusted Sam that she was too weak to end her own life right then. Never had she felt more pathetic in her entire life. Sam slumped, once again finding herself on the ground that she was getting far too acquainted with.

She did not know how long she just lay there, delirious as she listened to the comforting sounds of violence amidst her own strangled gasping. After the newcomer's display of power, Sam was certain that he had made quick work of her assailants. At least the bastards were finally getting what they deserved.

Sam flinched as the man crouched down to examine her, his lips pursed into a grim line as he observed her injuries. If he was going to kill her, she prayed that he would have the mercy to make it quick.

"Stop struggling. You've already lost enough blood." A voice soothed, the words barely registering in the back of Sam's mind.

She gasped as a chilling sensation gripped her throat, completely halting her depleted intake of breath. It was followed by a tingling warmth, as she allowed herself a convulsive, hacking cough. Sam felt slightly better, and she could sense the beginnings of her vision returning, her eyes blinded by the light. She drew rapid, greedy breaths, her body hungry for the vital air that it had been deprived of for so long. She was fast growing sick of the taste of blood in her mouth.

_'So this is what it feels like to be dying.'_

She started as strong arms embraced her. From the way that her head was spinning, Sam guessed that she had just been lifted from the ground, cradled in the stranger's grasp.

"Who are you?" She whispered, regarding her savior in awe through blurred vision, as unfathomable, joyful delirium began to overcome her.

The man, or at least she thought it was a man, obviously did not think her worthy to merit a reply, as he placed a frosty hand over her forehead, followed by icy fingertips over her jugular. The chill from the unexpected contact sent fervent shivers down Sam's spine, invoking a foreign, indescribable feeling within her.

If Sam had not been hallucinatory from the loss of blood, she would have been prompted to wonder why a ghost, the _enemy_, would bother checking her vital signs.

The ghost hunter reached upwards with her hands, longing to touch his face, fascinated by the brilliant waves of green light he seemed to be exuding. Sam was somehow always unable to reach him, even though she was certain that she was being cradled in his grasp.

_'Is he an angel?' _

Sam wondered idly as the observed the being before her, crowned with a bright green halo that surrounded his entire shimmering, translucent being, visible, yet invisible all at once. In her current aberrant state, he was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen in her entire life.

_'An angel of death, more like.' _

Sam chuckled as she felt his grip around her tighten. It seemed unnatural that she should find her own death so amusing, with a stranger's arms around her as he prepared to carry her to the afterlife.

Her head spun as Sam squinted to discern his visage, frustrated that half his features seemed to be consumed by a blinding white estrus. It seemed unfair that she would be denied one final look at the world without flawed vision before she departed from it forever.

"You're going to be fine," the stranger reassured gently, in soft, dulcet tones that Sam found akin to those used by a man caressing his lover.

Sam struggled to to form words with her mouth, her mind bombarded with a multitude of questions. She had so much that she wanted to ask him.

Then the darkness claimed her.

**Author's Notes:** Yes, Sam is hallucinating;) Not that Danny isn't amazing in his own right. This chapter used to be joined the previous chapter, but I split them up so that I could pretend that I have more chapters that I actually do.

Thanks go as usual to _Sasia _for beta work.

**Many thanks to my wonderful reviewers: **_Sasia93, Elanor Pam, Sweeteen19, vanalivi, FreakLevel27, FunkyFish1991 _and _vladimir's disease_. You guys are awesome!:D

Next, Sam wakes up in Danny's apartment, a scene that I had a lot of fun withXD

Please review if you enjoyed the installment!:D

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	4. Introductions

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 3**

**Introductions**

The gentle pattering of water on a shower floor was the first sound Sam heard as she slid languidly into consciousness, as she felt herself overwhelmed by the fact that it felt incredibly wonderful to just lie there, without having to exert herself. Her brow furrowed, as she attempted to recall the events of the previous night. She was certain something important had happened. Sam yawned, unperturbed when nothing came to mind. She would have plenty of time to think later. For now, rest was her utmost priority.

The second thing that came to her attention was that this wasn't her own bed. She drew the soft, pleasant smelling sheets closer to her body, finding the bed's scent unfamiliar, but soothing. Lavender eyes fluttered open, surveying her foreign surroundings. If she wasn't in her bed at home, and she wasn't at her bunk in the brotherhood's quarters, then where was she?

The ghost hunter found herself suddenly bombarded with memories of the previous night, as she abruptly recalled jumbled flashes of blackness and vivid green spectral energy intertwined with pain. She started, suddenly wide awake as dull panic began creeping in. What had happened to her? The ghost hunter placed a hand on her forehead as she sat up, massaging her temples.

She glanced downwards, and was surprised to note that she was no longer in her ruined stealth suit, but a large grey t-shirt that probably belonged to a male. Someone had taken the liberty to clean her up, and don her with fresh clothes. The person in the shower perhaps? Whoever had saved her was not of the brotherhood.

Sam massaged her wrists, not used to the absence of the twin silver bracelets that extended into her ghost gauntlets. She felt vulnerable without any weapons to protect herself. The ghost hunter cursed her luck. The gauntlets also doubled up as a tracking device, so that the brotherhood was capable of locating her at all times, in emergencies such as last night. She hadn't recalled losing them in the fight. Then again, her memories of the previous night were hazy to say the least.

It wasn't long before she noticed that the splashing of water had stopped. Whoever had been in the shower had now gotten out. Sam paused, unsure if she was ready to meet her rescuer just yet.

The events of the previous night left Sam with a feeling of dread and filth. She was sure her host wouldn't mind if she took a shower. Sam surveyed the foot of the bed, where a fresh towel had been laid. The gesture was invitation enough.

Sam rose her eyebrows, surveying her surroundings with greater attention to detail as she stepped into the shower. The ghost hunter allowed herself a contented sigh as the comforting warm water trickled down her body, feeling an upsurge of blind affection for her host at his hospitality. This apartment really wasn't half bad. She frowned, a thought suddenly occurring to her. Why hadn't she run into her host when he had exited the shower? Sam reached for the soap, unconcerned. She probably just hadn't been paying attention when he left the bathroom.

-

Feeling refreshed, Sam was in a considerably better mood when she stepped out of the shower.

The ghost hunter entered the kitchen, coming face to face with a tall, white haired stranger. He was dressed simply, in dark jeans that were showing signs of wear where they were frayed at the ankles, and a white shirt that he yet to button up completely. She paused as he noticed her presence, unsure what was expected of her.

"I was wondering when you were going to get up," he greeted, running a towel through shocking white hair.

Sam returned the smile, feeling awkward that she had intruded upon his home.

"Feeling better?" Her host grinned, the friendly tone of his voice possessing a likable quality that made Sam immediately warm to him as she nodded wordlessly in reply.

"What happened?" The ghost hunter ventured, not entirely sure she wanted to know. If she was lucky, perhaps the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a really bad dream.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He queried, genuine concern on his face. "You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yeah. I think the Night Police tried to kill me," she frowned, massaging her temples, willing herself to recall the events that had taken place the previous night. There was no point denying that she had been attacked. The stranger probably knew more about what had happened to her than she did. After all, her recall of the events extended to blur of flashing spectral energy and pain, amidst the recurring memories of glowing green eyes and flashbacks of shocking white.

He nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"Weird thing is, I swear another ghost saved me," Sam conceded, confused. "How did I end up in your apartment?"

"I brought you here," he informed, favouring her with a significant look. "I would've thought that a member of brotherhood would have known better than to singlehandedly attempt to take on the Fright Knight's minions."

Sam started, on edge with newfound wariness. How much did the man before her know about her affiliation the brotherhood? Word occasionally reached civilians of a syndicate of rebels, but the exact details of the resistance was information that members guarded with their lives. The fact that her host seemed to be well versed with the workings of the brotherhood was more than unsettling.

"I haven't told anyone, if that's what you're worried about," he assured her. "The exposure of the brotherhood does not interest me."

"But that must mean..." Her head swam, as it was suddenly filled with memories of the man before her attacking her assailants with animalistic savagery amongst vivid flashes of green.

Sam took a step back, as she tried to find a way around the impossible conclusion that she seemed to have reached. "_You're _a ghost," she whispered, disbelieving.

"I saved you last night," he raised an eyebrow, displaying his surprise. "Don't you remember?"

"You were wearing a cloak last night," Sam struggled to access her memories. "I didn't know ghosts wore normal clothes."

"That's just to hide my face when I leave my apartment," he replied, amused. "I'm not that melodramatic."

"Why do you have an apartment?" Sam asked, wincing immediately as the question left her lips, suddenly aware of how stupid she sounded. Why had she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind?

"Where did you think ghosts lived?" The corners of his lips quirked upwards in mirth.

"The ghost zone," Sam glowered. "Where they _belong,_" she added more forcefully, as the ghost hunter attempted to reclaim some of the dignity she had lost in her shock, banishing the imagery of ancient castles and various other haunted locations that immediately came to mind.

"I prefer it here," he shrugged. "Even with the brotherhood, there are a lot less enemies in the human realm trying to kill me."

Lavender eyes fluttered shut as she drew a long, shuddering breath, dread leaden in her stomach. What had he done with the apartment's previous inhabitants? She caught the scent of his towel dried hair, recoiling as she realised the source of the bed's pleasant smell.

"Where are my clothes?" She demanded hotly. "And why was I in your bed?"

He cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "I haven't tried anything on you, if that's what you're worried about."

She folded her arms, doubt evident on her features as she subjected him to a glare of glacial standards.

He raised his hands in surrender. "I slept on the couch."

"What did you do to me?" She asked again, as her fist clenched around the hem of the over sized shirt she was wearing. She had already been humiliated once by Pariah's men. Sam refused to allow it to happen again. The mere thought that a ghost had laid hands on her in that manner made her feel sick.

"I didn't do anything," the stranger shrugged, unperturbed by her concern. "Your clothes were ruined, so I destroyed them."

"Just because my clothes were bloody was no excuse to dispose of them," her eyes narrowed.

"I wasn't going to let you on my bed without cleaning you up first," he countered, annoyance entering his voice. "You also had a tracking device on you. I removed it."

Sam bristled. "You had no right-"

"I had no intention of being discovered by your kin," he finished coldly. "What I do not understand is why you fail to be grateful for the fact that I rescued you from your assailants. You would have been long dead had I not chosen to intervene."

His words stung. Despite the fact that he was the enemy, Sam knew that gratitude was in order. But she failed to understand how he had managed to remove her gauntlets in the first place. The weapon's defense mechanisms should have left him with a severe ectoplasmic shock. He shouldn't have been able to touch them, much less remove them. This ghost was powerful, and he knew it. It was best not to goad his temper. If he decided to attack her, Sam knew that she would be incapable of stopping him.

"Where are we?" She asked meekly, her previous anger replaced by guilt.

"I'm not going to tell you," he replied flatly, pouring himself a mug of coffee. "You'll bring the brotherhood to my doorstep, and my days of peace will be over."

She paused, suddenly remembering her injuries. There was no way the pain hadn't been real.

"How badly was I hurt last night?" The ghost hunter asked, modesty preventing her from lifting the shirt to observe the state of her abdomen.

"Pretty badly," he informed, his voice still laced with frost. "When I first observed your injuries, I wasn't sure if you would survive."

"But my wounds are gone." Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. She had to have been unconscious for at least a month in order for her injuries to have healed. "How long have I been asleep?" The ghost hunter queried, anxiety evident.

"About fourteen hours," he shrugged offhandedly. "I fixed you."

Relief flooded Sam, until an ugly thought occurred to her. "What do you mean, you've fixed me?" The ghost hunter's eyes narrowed, as images of her mentor's current condition came to mind. The mere thought of contamination repulsed her.

Sam flexed her fingers, observing them for any sign of spectral energy. At least she wasn't floating a foot off the ground. Then again, neither was he. In fact, Sam couldn't bring herself to accept how _normal_ the ghost before her seemed, the stark white of his hair the only feature that bore reflection to his true age. Apart from his arrogant, imperious demeanor, he could have easily passed as a typical human being.

"What are you going to do to me?" She questioned, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. The ghost hunter was painfully aware that she was completely at the mercy of her host.

The ghost favoured her with a look of incredulity, as if unable to believe that she still thought that he wished her ill. "Feed you, then send you home."

Sam suddenly realised that she was ravenous, as her stomach chose that moment to let out a rather undignified rumble. The ghost hunter flushed as her host lowered his head, in an attempt to hide the slight upturn of his lips.

"Let's see what food I have," he opened the kitchen cabinet, frowning as he withdrew a solitary box of Cheerios. Reaching into his near empty fridge, the ghost removed a half used carton of milk, which he offered to her.

Sam was about to protest, before suddenly remembering that her host was a ghost, who obviously did not require human food to survive. Nevertheless, her initial indignation did not go unnoticed.

"Sorry," he grinned ruefully. "Apart from coffee and the occasional bowl of cereal, I don't eat much."

"I can see that," she grinned in reply, surveying his empty shelves, glad that a truce of sorts had been established.

An awkward silence ensued, in which Sam found herself completely at loss at what to say. Then again, she never thought she would ever be trying to make civil conversation with a ghost, apart from exchanging death threats. Perhaps she ought to thank him for saving her.

"Attacking the Fright Knight's men was stupid," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he shrugged, unperturbed. "It _was_ pretty stupid."

"Aren't they going to come after you now?" Sam's brow furrowed in concern. She wasn't about to let anyone, not even a ghost, suffer on her behalf.

The ghost rolled his eyes, a gesture that surprised Sam. The ghost before her didn't seem to have any respect whatsoever for the hierarchy of his kin. It was a wonder that he hadn't yet been slain.

"In all likelihood, yes. The Fright Knight is one of the last remaining midians." The white haired ghost let loose a derisive snort. "A fool who still clings to the old ways. To him, there is no greater insult to a liege than to attack his subordinates."

"Are you a midian?" Sam queried. She fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, tugging it down so it covered more of bare thighs. Her host had already proved himself enough of a gentleman, but she still wasn't comfortable with the exposure.

"Sorry," the ghost replied, as he looked her straight in the eye. "I'm not going to answer that."

"Can you at least tell me how old you are?" She pressed. "Some of the things you did last night, I'd never seen a ghost do before."

"Older than you," his lips quirked upwards as he sidestepped the question.

Sam glowered, unimpressed by his attempt at a joke. She had known that discovering information to relay to the brotherhood was a difficult task, but her host's refusal to cooperate was making it nearly impossible. Perhaps she should attempt a different approach, beginning with less intrusive questions to first gain his trust.

"Why do you eat anyway? It's not like you need to." Sam folded her arms, adopting an impassive expression in an attempt to conceal her motives.

"I don't really know," he shrugged. "I guess it gives me something to do. It gets boring keeping a low profile."

"A ghost who doesn't enjoy fighting?" Sam asked, skeptical.

"I dislike conflict unless I cannot avoid it," his lips pursed into a grim line. "Violence has never solved any disputes."

"You've fought the Fright Knight, haven't you?" She pressed. "I know you have. Ghosts as old as you and the Fright Knight are bound to have crossed paths at least once in the past."

"That was a long time ago," he stated flatly, as though recalling an ugly experience.

Sam continued her interrogation, unperturbed. "Where's the rest of your clan?"

"Clan?" He repeated, confused.

"I heard you talking about some truce with Pariah."

"I have no clan," the ghost's unsettling green gaze seemed to harden. "The truce is mine and Pariah's alone."

Sam barely stopped herself voicing her disbelief out loud, as she schooled her features blank. The ghost king was upholding a truce to a single ghost? How powerful _was_ he? It unnerved Sam, how the being before her who could appear so fearsome and imperious before his enemies was also somehow capable of acting, at moments, almost _friendly _towards her. It had never before occurred to her that ghosts could have personalities, much less subject her to kindness.

"You going to eat anything?" The ghost offered. "Unless you're convinced I've poisoned it," he deadpanned.

The ghost hunter ignored the jibe, as she grabbed the cereal box from the kitchen counter.

"Why did you save me?" She asked, discountenance evident as she poured the miniature hoops into a bowl.

"I didn't," he informed, placing a mug of hot coffee before her. "I was merely defending my territory. You just happened to have the fortune of our paths crossing."

"Why aren't you fighting for Pariah Dark?" Sam questioned, bringing the mug to her lips. "I bet he'd love to have someone as strong as you serving under him."

"I've kept out of this war for as long as I can remember," he replied stiffly. "I don't intend to start fighting on the King's side now."

"Aren't all ghosts loyal to him?"

"Fewer than you think," he shrugged noncommittally, as Sam allowed herself a moment to digest this new piece of information.

"Are you done interrogating me?" The ghost queried wryly, changing the subject.

"No," she persisted, frustration mounting. "Since you're not going to answer any of my questions, what _are _you willing to tell me?"

"Nothing," he maintained firmly, and Sam glimpsed a second flash of annoyance crossing his features that she could have sworn was coupled by the faint flickering of his green eyes. "If I could help it, you wouldn't even be in this apartment right now."

The ghost hunter flushed, abruptly remembering that she was in no position to be demanding anything of her host. Her host, sensing her discomfort, made another attempt to instigate conversation.

"I bet this is the most pathetic dinner you've ever had," he chuckled ruefully, pushing white hair out of his eyes as he gestured to the cereal.

"Dinner?" She frowned.

"It's practically evening," he pointed out. "I drew the curtains so you wouldn't be able to figure out our location."

_Evening? _

Sam's eyes widened. The rest of her team must be worried sick. Not to mention she had no idea what condition Valerie was in after the attack.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I have to leave. My friends will probably be worried." She rose from her seat, heading towards the door.

"Your audacity is commendable," he maintained. "But you're not going to get to see the outside of this apartment."

"How am I going to leave, then?" Sam challenged. "Surely a ghost of yourcaliber is not going to employ the usage of something as crude as a blindfold."

He shook his head. "As far as humans go, you're a smart girl. Even then, I wouldn't put it past you to memorise the way back to this apartment."

"As far as humans go?" She echoed, outrage evident in her voice.

"Would you not agree that your kind was inferior?" He asked, genuinely intrigued, his voice devoid of derision.

"No," she glared. "If anything, we're _above_ you, ghost scum."

"How could you claim superiority if you are physically, and in many cases, mentally inferior to my kin?" The ghost raised an eyebrow.

"You may have monstrous abilities," Sam conceded, although the glower did not leave her features. "But we are in no way mentally inferior."

"Your actions last night certainly reinforce your point." Despite his condescending tone, there was no malice in the retort. Sam shook her head, bewilderment replacing her previous indignation. Was he_ teasing_ her?

"I need to leave," she insisted. "_Now_."

"Very well," he shrugged. "If you would, milady?" The ghost grinned, adopting a thick English accent as he extended a hand.

Sam took his hand, inwardly smirking as she concealed her self satisfaction. The ghost had given away more than he had known. A little research into ancient English ghosts, child's play on Tucker's part, and she would discover his origins. So much for their greater intelligence. The ghost hunter supposed old habits died hard.

"Hold on tight," the ghost warned, and Sam's train of thought was cut short as she felt her self abruptly jerked across the air through his grip, rematerialising in the alleyway where he had encountered her in a bright flash of white light.

"I believe you'll be more than able to make your way back from here." His voice cut through her disorientation, as she shook her head to clear it.

"Are you okay?" He asked, brow furrowing. "I've never teleported a human before."

"Yeah." She frowned as he set her down. "I'm Sam," Maddie's apprentice proffered, suddenly aware that she had failed to introduce herself.

"Phantom," he replied simply.

"Thank you, _Phantom_," the ghost hunter acknowledged, kicking at the ground with the toe of her combat boot. His name felt strange on her tongue.

"Despite the boundlessness of your curiosity, I enjoyed our meeting, Sam," he grinned, and for a moment, the ghost hunter could almost forget that the man standing in front of her wasn't human.

"Me too," Sam blushed, unsure what an appropriate response in her situation would be, especially when her savior was a ghost.

"I suppose it'll be pointless to ask you to keep this meeting to yourself," his expression sobered as he hooked a thumb into the pocket of his dark jeans, a casual gestures that somehow reinforced his humanity in Sam's eyes. "I never intended to allow the brotherhood to learn of my existence."

"Do you wish that you hadn't saved me?" Sam asked, sounding almost apologetic. The ghost seemed to be harmless to humans, but she was bound by duty to report her findings to her mentor.

"Maybe," Phantom shrugged. "But I've been bored lately and you'll be interesting to keep an eye on. I'll outlive the brotherhood, anyway."

"You're not going to be stalking me, are you?" She asked suspiciously.

"Don't flatter yourself," the ghost replied dryly. "It is the activities of the resistance that interest me."

Sam flushed, unable to decide which prospect was worse.

"Curfew begins soon. I suggest you return to the brotherhood before then," he turned to leave.

"Wait," she hesitated, taken aback as she realised that a part of her didn't want him to go. "Will I see you again?"

"In all probability, yes," Phantom replied. "I need my clothes back."

"But how do I find you?" The ghost hunter asked, her fingers subconsciously curling around the material of his shirt. Perhaps their next meeting could be turned to her advantage.

"You don't," he replied, smirking as he slowly dematerialised. "Unless I want to be found."

**Author's Notes:** Phew. I do hope that was up to your expectations, and that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Many thanks to the lovely:**_ EmeraldCalling, Fulcon, Sasia93, Angelic Kittens, FunkyFish1991, hydraling110, firemuse, vladimir's disease, Secret Spy Guy, bloodmoon 13, b4k4 ch4n, uula, Manyara, Hachi, Sweeten19, Grumbles _and _Vanalivi _for their wonderfully encouraging reviews that kept me going where motivation failed.

**Thanks** must also be extended to the amazing _Sasia93_ and _Chaos Dragon _for beta work that never fails to purge the last vestiges of doubt from my mind:)

Kindly leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter!:D

**Hugs and Kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	5. Return

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 4**

**Return**

Sam sighed, her body abused and fatigued by the events of the past twenty four hours. The ghost hunter navigated her way through the familiar hallways of the brotherhood's underground headquarters with leaden, yet purposeful strides. She had to get to Maddie as soon as possible; the information she had gained from her encounter with Phantom the previous night was undoubtedly the most important she had ever gathered in her short year on the field.

Sam inhaled deeply, as her senses were assaulted by the familiar smell of sweat and crash mattresses as she passed the training room. She grinned, warmth spreading across her chest as she recognised her friend's voices amidst the clatter of training equipment. Perhaps reporting to Maddie could wait five minutes. Her friends deserved to know that she was alive.

"What's the point in this?" she heard Paulina query forlornly, as the pretty Latina slumped to the ground. "Sam's dead, and no amount of training is going to bring her back."

"She wouldn't have wanted us to give up," Star insisted, attempting to pull Paulina to her feet.

"Sam's left us with big shoes to fill," Kwan asserted. "We're going to make sure we don't disappoint her."

"She's never going to find out," Paulina maintained, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet in a half hearted attempt at a battle stance. "There's no way Sam's going to become a ghost."

"Your stance needs to be lower," Sam commented, grinning as she peered into the training room.

Kwan started, turning back towards the door as he was forced to do a double take, a broad grin spreading across his features. "When did you get back?"

"Not too long ago," the ghost hunter informed. "You're the first people I've seen."

"Sam?" Paulina raised a pink laquered hand to her lips, voicing her disbelief.

"Is it really you?" Star questioned, as though afraid that their friend was an apparition that would disappear.

"I expected more of a reception," Sam commented dryly, stepping into plain view. "Did you miss me?"

"_Sam_!" Paulina and Star cried, as her friends threw themselves into her embrace.

"How are you doing?" Kwan queried, his brow furrowed in concern. "You gave us quite a scare."

"Sorry about that," Sam laughed. "I would have returned to headquarters sooner if I had any choice in the matter."

"Maddie had the brotherhood looking for you all night," The pretty Latina informed, as her grip around Sam's torso tightened, drawing her into a bone crushing hug.

"We thought we'd never see you again," Star breathed, tears of relief welling in her blue eyes.

"It's great to see you too," the Goth grinned, returning their hugs. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you guys again."

"I'm so glad you're back safely," Kwan slumped in relief, as though a great weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. "We all thought you were dead."

"Where's Tucker and Dash?" Sam queried.

"The techno geek was with Lancer, the last time we checked," Paulina informed. "Dash is probably resting in his quarters. This is the first time he's slept since you were attacked."

"Is Val okay?" Sam asked, fervently hoping that her partner had escaped unharmed.

The other ghost hunters exchanged worried glances.

"Valerie's exhausted, but unhurt," Paulina began, unsure how to continue. "She was the last to stop searching for you. Maddie had to literally drag her off the streets at the end of the night. She's refused to leave her quarters since."

"She blames herself," Star added solemnly. "Val thinks she abandoned you."

"We tried to see her, but she wouldn't let us in," Kwan added. "You should probably let her know that you're okay."

Sam nodded, accordant, concern for her best friend etched on her features. But seeing Valerie would have to wait until she had reported her findings to their leader. Sam was determined to turn her next encounter with Phantom to their advantage. Knowledge of his existence had opened a narrow window of opportunity for the brotherhood that Sam refused to miss.

"Woah. What happened here?" a familiar voice questioned, as its speaker entered the training room.

"Tucker!" the Goth spun on her heels, a huge smile spreading across her face as she turned to face her tech operative.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Tucker joked, his expression wry as he surveyed her attire. Sam supposed the last thing they had expected was for her to turn up almost a day later completely unharmed, clad in the clothes of an unknown male. She wished that Phantom had spared her stealth suit. It was probably difficult for anyone to take her seriously, dressed as she was.

"Very funny Tucker," Sam returned the grin, despite the fact that the innuendo was altogether unappreciated. Short hours ago, the ghost hunter had thought that she would never see her best friend again. She would suffer the worst of his jokes without exception. For now.

"I believe these are yours," Her team member quipped, handing Sam twin silver bracelets. "When we found them at the alleyway where you had been attacked, we feared the worst," Tucker's expression sobered, as he recalled the unpleasant events of the previous night. "I mean, I tested the blood smeared all over the alleyway, but I refused to believe you were dead until I saw your gauntlets."

"Thanks, Tuck," Sam pulled her tech operative into a hug. She slipped the weapons over her hands, an irrational feeling of security overtaking her at the familiarity of their weight on her wrists. It wasn't as though her ghost gauntlets had been any help against the Night Police.

Sam hadn't expected Phantom to spare her tracking devices, yet more unexpected kindness on his part. If he had intended to scare her off, he had certainly made a poor job of it.

"You have to tell me everything that happened," Tucker gushed excitedly. "How did you manage to fight them off?"

"Later," Sam asserted firmly. "I have important information to relay to Maddie."

"Our leader can carry on thinking you're dead for a couple more minutes," Her tech operative shrugged, grinning.

"It's not every day a squad member miraculously survives a high level ghost attack," Kwan added.

"Stop being selfish, both of you," Star teased. "Maddie deserves to know that her apprentice is alive."

"The information isn't the fact that I'm alive," Sam scowled, exasperated. "I have information that could help us win the war."

She was met with disbelieving faces. Her tech operative in particular had abandoned all dignity and was staring at her with his mouth wide open, as though she was delusional.

"Win the war?" Tucker echoed, openly skeptical. "Did you hit your head last night?"

"A lot harder than you think," the ghost hunter replied darkly, as she recalled how she had nearly died.

"How many fingers?" her best friend questioned, holding up his hand. The poor attempt at a joke raised a chuckle from Kwan.

"I don't have time for this, Tucker," Sam protested, pushing past him. "I need to see Maddie. _Now_."

"Very well. Send word to our esteemed leader that the Goth girl has returned," Tucker declared, favouring Paulina with a flourish which earned him a dirty look.

"Why don't y_ou_ go, you-"

"I'll go to her," Sam cut in, before an argument could occur. "She's probably really busy anyway."

"Promise that you'll tell us what happened," Star requested. "We have to know how you survived."

"No problem," the Goth grinned. "But this discussion might take a while."

-

Madeline Fenton returned to the insufficiently distracting task of recharging her husband's ecto blasters, as she hastened to wipe away the salty tears that had once again managed to escape her notice. She should have known that there was no way so mundane a task would be adequate to distract her from recalling the events of the previous night, if even for a moment.

It greatly pained her that she had not been able to join her subordinates on the streets to search for her own apprentice. Maddie inability to control what little wretched power she had unwillingly obtained rendered her completely useless on the field. The enemy would sense her in a heartbeat. She would not damn them to discovery due to her own incompetence. Past mistakes had taught her that risks that involved gambling with the lives of others were never worth it.

Now Sam, who she had come to regard as a daughter, was gone. Maddie had known that it would happen eventually; the lifespans of those who chose to join the brotherhood were known to be short. However, she had always hoped that her apprentice would manage to outlive her. It didn't seem fair that she could not afford the luxury of properly grieving for Sam, given her position as the brotherhood's leader. Maddie knew she had to remain strong, and lead by example.

Nearly two decades ago, Maddie's actions had cost the brotherhood her services as a ghost hunter, and more severely, her recklessness had cost Jack a son. Her husband had attempted to convince her on many occasions that she was not to be blamed, but it pained Maddie that she and Jack could never have more children, for fear of condemning their offspring with the same curse that she possessed.

The brotherhood had been too optimistic about Maddie's survival to consider the implications of the possession on her son. But Maddie's worst fears were soon realised; the child had not been human. Daniel had exuded an eerie, ethereal glow from the moment he had entered the mortal world. It had taken all of the brotherhood leader's will to even complete the birth, all the while knowing that her wretched hero complex had created a monster.

The night of his birth, even as his birth blood dried on Maddie's hands, Daniel was stolen from them. Maddie did not know what had happened to her son. She did not want to know. The only conceivable good thing that had resulted from Daniel's death was that Maddie was forced to learn caution.

The brotherhood's leader had to admit that she was far less reckless than she once was. The traits that had rendered her the ghost hunting prodigy of her generation seemed to have appeared in both Valerie and Sam, although the pair had yet to learn to differentiate between caution and cowardice. It had been this same recklessness between them that had cost her apprentice her life. Maddie scrubbed a tear from her cheeks. It was her fault for not training Sam adequately.

Maddie was broken out of her reverie by familiar, yet hesitant knocking before the door to her quarters swung open, revealing the last person the brotherhood's leader had expected to see.

"Sam?" her mentor rose to her feet, unable to believe that her apprentice had somehow survived.

"Hey Maddie." Sam grinned, her fingers subconsciously furling around the hem of the grey t-shirt as she surveyed the familiar surroundings.

Maddie's quarters were no more extravagant than those of her subordinates. The brotherhood's leader saw no reason why she was any more deserving of better accommodation, especially since she no longer took part in field missions. If anything, Maddie always claimed that it was the ghost hunters who deserved the extra comfort after long nights of risking their lives in the field.

"Thank god you're alright," Maddie pulled her into a bone crushing hug that left Sam feeling comforted and safe for the first time since the ambush. "You are never to scare me like that ever again."

"I'm fine," the ghost hunter assured, returning her mentor's embrace. "I survived the Night Police."

"What happened to you last night?" Maddie questioned, thin lines of worry visible on her forehead. "When Valerie led us to where you were ambushed, all that remained was your equipment and signs of struggle. We were worried sick."

"It's a long story," Sam began, sudden weariness overcoming her at the prospect of having to recount the events of the previous night.

Now that the ghost hunter was past her initial joy and relief at being reunited with the brotherhood, the magnitude of her failures the previous night was beginning to sink in. It was disgraceful that the apprentice of the brotherhood's leader had allowed herself to be captured and tortured by the Night Police. To add to Sam's humiliation, she had been forced to accept help from a ghost, the enemy

Worst of all, would Maddie be disappointed that she had not managed to capture Phantom? There was no conceivable way she could have managed the task without Valerie, but Sam knew that such an opportunity might never present itself to the brotherhood ever again. The past twenty four hours certainly seemed to be playing host to her inadequacies.

Her mentor looked on expectantly, awaiting her answer.

"A ghost saved me," Sam conceded, readying herself for the flurry of questions she knew would soon follow. She could never bring herself to disappoint Maddie.

"But- how?" the brotherhood's leader managed out, stunned by her apprentice's answer.

The ghost hunter wasn't surprised by her mentor's reaction. As far as Sam knew, she was the only field agent ever to have encountered Phantom, a previously unknown entity. Sam absently fiddled with her twin silver bracelets, organising her memories of the ambush. She intended to relay as much information to Maddie as she could possibly remember regarding her rescuer. Any crucial detail of her encounter could very well help the brotherhood win the war.

After a period of augmented silence, Maddie finally spoke. "Are you absolutely certain?" her mentor queried, wary of the implications.

"Yes," Sam affirmed, straightening. "I woke up in his lair this morning. I was fatally wounded by the Night Police," she continued, eager to dispel the expression of disbelief on her mentor's face. "But I think he healed me."

"You were in the ghost zone?" Maddie's eyes widened in concern as she placed a hand on Sam's cheek. Her mentor's touch brought a slight, tingling warmth, despite the ghostly chill of Maddie's fingers. "Have you been contaminated?"

"No," Sam shook her head. "Funnily enough, he has an apartment. Here, in Amity Park," the ghost hunter flushed, suddenly aware of how ridiculous the concept seemed.

If she hadn't met Phantom this morning, Sam would have been prepared to dismiss the occurrences of the previous night as mere hallucinations on her part. Maddie, however, did you appear to be doubting her word.

"How powerful is he?" her leader questioned sharply, eager for the information her apprentice had managed to gather.

"I was unable to gauge his true strength," Sam continued, "But Phantom's definitely old. Perhaps older than the brotherhood."

"That is a tall claim to make," Maddie asserted, pushing mahogany hair out of her face. "What makes you so certain of his strength?"

"Phantom was completely unaffected by the defense mechanisms Tucker calibrated," the ghost hunter informed. "The ghost had no problems disarming me while I slept. He even removed my ghost gauntlets."

"Was it possible that he compelled a human slave to remove them?" Maddie questioned, refusing to voice the single, unspoken fear that both mentor and apprentice shared. If the brotherhood had failed to detect the existence of one supernatural entity of such strength, what was to say that there were no others rampaging Amity Park, unaccounted for?

"No," Sam shook her head. "There were no others, living or otherwise, in his lair. Even if he hadn't been able to remove them himself, the mere fact that he managed to take down four members of the Night Police with no apparent difficulty speaks for itself."

"I can't believe this," Maddie massaged her temples, swamped by the implications. "How were we not aware of his existence?"

"Phantom is extremely cautious despite his power," Sam explained, playing with the hem of her savior's grey t-shirt. "He's fought the Fright Knight in the past," the ghost hunter straightened under her mentor's gaze. If Maddie hadn't been giving Sam her full attention prior to the statement, she certainly was now. "Phantom claimed that the Fright Knight is one of the last remaining midians, but refused acknowledge if he was one of their number."

"How did you manage to escape?" Maddie breathed.

"I didn't," the ghost hunter replied. "He let me go."

"What does he want with us?" her mentor's eyes narrowed in distrust. "What were the terms of your release?"

"He didn't demand anything from me," Sam shrugged. "In fact, he seemed eager to be left alone."

"Are you certain he didn't follow you?" Maddie questioned. "He could have used you to learn of our whereabouts."

"If he did, Lancer would have detected him by now," Sam affirmed, with false confidence as a chill settled in the pit of her stomach. Even if he had been unable to enter, nothing would have stopped Phantom from tailing her back to the brotherhood's headquarters.

"I suppose it's for the best," Maddie sighed, drawing her apprentice into another embrace. "I do not have to understand his mercy to be grateful for it."

Sam started in her mentor's grasp, as a previously unconsidered concept suddenly dawned on her. All this time, she had been thinking of ways in which Phantom could be compelled into the brotherhood's service. Capturing him was completely of the question. Sam highly doubted the brotherhood would survive if Phantom decided to retaliate. Her encounter with Phantom had presented the brotherhood with countless opportunities to level the playing field against the ghosts.

There was, however, a far simpler option. What if she could persuade Phantom to ally himself with the brotherhood?

The ghost had been lying when he had claimed that he had only saved her in an effort to defend his territory. He could have just as easily left her to die. Phantom had chosen to reveal himself to her, perhaps against his better judgment. They both knew there was no way that Sam would not choose reveal his existence to the brotherhood. Sam paused, her brow furrowing as she considered the logical significance of Phantom's actions.

It seemed impossible that Sam had been subjected to the fortune of crossing path with a ghost that would easily be able to aid the brotherhood at their time of need. Phantom simply had to be an anomaly. There was no way that there were other supernatural entities like him, capable of subjecting humans to kindness. Sam didn't believe in fate, but she knew this opportunity was far too good to pass up.

Either that, or Phantom was so powerful that he did not consider the brotherhood a threat. Given the abilities he had displayed the previous night, Sam knew she couldn't disregard that possibility just yet. The ghost hunter suppressed a shudder. It was best not to dwell on such matters.

"Maddie," her apprentice began, conscious of how delicately she had to phrase her proposition in order for their leader to even seriously consider the notion. "Have you ever considered alternative methods of combating the enemy?"

"All the time," Maddie sighed. "The council certainly isn't doing me any favours."

"Encountering Phantom got me thinking-"

"Forget it," her mentor immediately cut in. "If this ghost is half as powerful as you say, the brotherhood has neither the technology nor the resources to capture him. I'm just glad my apprentice is home safely."

Sam opened her mouth, about to argue her point when her mentor raised her hand, gesturing for her apprentice to remain silent. "If his stance in the war is as impassive as you claim, it is best that we leave him be. We cannot risk aggravating a ghost that could be the destruction of us all."

"What if he can be persuaded to join our cause?" the ghost hunter spoke, clarifying her true intentions regarding the ghost. "Phantom could return the brotherhood to its former greatness. _Imagine_ having him on our side."

Her proposition was met with a second bout of stunned silence. Sam shifted in her seat, eyeing Maddie warily as she waited for her mentor's reaction. Would her mentor be disgusted by the mere suggestion? Short hours ago, Sam knew that she probably would have reacted similarly. However, now that she had met Phantom, Sam knew that her views regarding the enemy had been drastically altered, for better or for worse. Perhaps maleficence was a trait that not all ghosts shared.

"He has no incentive to fight for us," Maddie's reluctantly replied. "Forcing him to pick a side will probably result in him joining the empire. Having to deal with the Fright Knight is bad enough."

"He'll never join the empire," Sam insisted. "Not while the Fright Knight remains at the head of Pariah's elite. Phantom despises him."

"How do you know that all this is nothing more than an elaborate machination on the ghost king's part?" her mentor questioned, suspicion evident by the narrowing of her eyes. "The entire attack could have been staged. Phantom could have fabricated his affiliations to gain your trust."

"He didn't seem to want my trust," the ghost hunter maintained, frustrated that Maddie seemed to be missing the point of their discussion entirely. "In fact, Phantom wanted as little to do with me as possible. He's not like other ghosts. Phantom can be talked to, _reasoned_ with."

"Sam, I understand that you feel obligated to defend your savior," Maddie chided, tucking a stray lock of raven hair behind her apprentice's ear in an affectionate gesture. "But you seem to be forgetting that he is not human. Ghosts do not listen to reason."

"It's not just that," Sam protested. "Phantom will make a powerful ally. With him on our side, we'll never have to worry about the Fright Knight again."

"We might end up having to worry about a being far worse," their leader favoured Sam with a pointed look.

"The brotherhood could always attempt compulsion if we cannot persuade him to join our cause," Sam insisted. "At the moment, we lack methods of defending ourselves against the Night Police."

"You should know better than most never to trust ghosts," Maddie shook her head, as though appalled by the mere concept. "Allowing such monstrous creatures into our employ will ultimately lead to our destruction."

"Even if you do not trust him enough to use him in combat, Phantom will be an invaluable source of information," the ghost hunter implored, placing a hand over her mentor's. "His origins are ancient. Just consider the knowledge he must possess," she continued, encouraged by the faint, unreadable flicker in her mentor's eye. "He might even know of Pariah's weaknesses."

"Yet more reason to keep out of his way," the brotherhood's leader maintained, finality evident in her voice. "If he is capable of betraying his own kin, what will stop him from betraying us?"

"Ghost suffer disputes among themselves. Phantom admitted that many are dissatisfied with Pariah's ruling. At the moment, he doesn't appear to be on anyone's side but his own."

"Consider this," Maddie allowed herself an intake of breath. "If this _Phantom_ is easily capable of removing your ghost gauntlets, what would stop him from wrenching apart the ghost shield surrounding our headquarters, should he ever learn of our location?"

"Phantom is at least the Fright Knight's equal in strength, yet he is not of Pariah's elite," Sam argued. "He obviously has no interest in the destruction of the brotherhood."

"I forbid you from attempting to locate him," Maddie ordered, her gaze hardening. "This discussion is over."

Sam scowled, yet nodded in compliance. She would make Maddie see reason, despite the fact that convincing her mentor that Phantom was an asset seemed to be harder than she had initially thought. It was undisputed fact that the brotherhood's leader had a will of steel. But Sam was determined to prove that her stubbornness was a match for her mentor's. Phantom could help them win the war. Sam knew it. She just had to prove it to the rest of the brotherhood.

"Now go find Jazz," her mentor smiled, expression softening. "You and Valerie both need new earpieces. And afterwards, I'll bake you two some cookies."

-

"Be careful!" Valerie yelped, leaping from her seat as she clutched at her ear.

"Stop being such a wuss," Jazz admonished. "If you can handle whatever the ghosts decide to throw at you, you can handle this."

"At least when I'm in combat, I'm too caught up in the moment to feel any pain," Sam's partner glared, as she settled herself back on the cold steel chair. "There's nothing to distract me when I'm willingly having my own ear butchered by some second rate surgeon."

"Stop being difficult," Lancer's former apprentice chided distractedly, as she gingerly pulled back a square flap of skin from the shell Valerie's ear. "I swear, the only thing Vlad's trained you to be proficient in is complaining."

Sam chortled, unable to restrain her laughter despite being subjected to a dirty look from her partner. At times, when the ghost hunter couldn't help but feel that the brotherhood's resistance attempts were nothing more than futile, her friends always managed to make their cause seem worth it.

"Very funny, guys," Vlad's apprentice glowered. "But we all know neither of you can best me in combat."

"I don't know about Sam," Jazz challenged, as she brandished the suturing needle. "But there's no way a greenhorn like you can beat me on the field."

"Greenhorn?" Sam echoed with mock outrage. "You haven't been on the field so long, I'll be surprised if you could still hold your own out there."

"I'm with the Goth girl," Valerie agreed, grinning. "Tech with Lancer dulls the reflexes."

"I'd be nice to me if I were you," Jazz laughed, favouring Sam with a pointed look. "You're next."

"Do your worst," Maddie's apprentice joked, as she watched Jazz drive the suture once more through her partner's ear with minuscule, precise stitches. After the pain she had been forced to endure the night before, a few pricks were insignificant. She had far more pressing matters to attend to.

Sam was far more concerned over how she was going to manage to win over Maddie that her encounter with Phantom could be turned to their advantage. Her mentor's decision had been resolute. If Maddie refused to yield on the matter, then the seemingly impossible task of persuading Phantom to fight for them would only be half the battle won.

She frowned, unsure why she was going to such great lengths to defend a ghost from her mentor. Perhaps Tucker was right about her not having fully recovered from that blow to her head the previous night. How could she be so certain that approaching Phantom would be the best course of action?

He seemed to have permitted one more meeting between them, having requested that she returned his shirt. However, Sam had her doubts if Phantom would choose to reveal himself in front of Valerie, given how wary of the brotherhood he had seemed. If Phantom were to approach her, it would be when she was completely alone. Unfortunately for Sam, members of field teams rarely separated.

"I heard that you had returned," Vlad Masters greeted as he entered the ward. "You gave us quite a scare, young lady." Valerie's mentor raised an elegant eyebrow as he helped himself to their supplies.

"Sorry," Sam grinned sheepishly. "I didn't mean for any of it to happen. What are the supplies for?"

"Jack's managed knock himself out calibrating the ecto skeleton," Vlad rolled his eyes in an indication of unreserved frustration. "_Again_."

"We've tried to persuade him to stop, but Dad's convinced that he's on the verge of a breakthrough," Jazz sighed.

"I'm sure he'll get there eventually," Maddie's apprentice shrugged noncommittally. It wasn't that she doubted Jack's abilities as an inventor. It was just that Sam doubted if it was possible to create a machine that would allow humans to rival their enemy in terms of physical strength. Short of dying, the idea seemed ludicrous.

"Your mentor worked me to the ground last night searching for you," the billionaire wrinkled his nose as he faced Sam. "It was most unappreciated."

"Like you wouldn't have searched for Sam even if Mom hadn't asked you to," Jazz snorted.

"I wouldn't have," Vlad deadpanned, his arms loaded with medical supplies. "I'm already two days behind on my beauty sleep."

"It's not like you need it," Jazz grinned, but there was no malice in the retort.

"Is it so hard to admit you care?" Valerie teased.

"You're certainly not making it easy," her mentor replied dryly, hoisting the packages as he took his leave.

"Val, promise me you won't turn out like him," Jazz joked as they observed Vlad's retreating form, her teasing eliciting no more than a half hearted shrug from the ghost hunter.

"What's wrong, Valerie?" Sam queried, sensing Valerie's change in mood as her mentor left the room.

"Being on the field didn't seem real until last night," her best friend admitted quietly. "I'd never thought that we could actually die out there."

"What did you think it was before?" Sam raised an eyebrow, her tone light. "Fun and games?"

"No." Her partner scowled. "I knew we were putting ourselves in danger, but I didn't think that I'd ever lose you. I was so scared."

"I know what you mean," Sam conceded. "I always thought that if we got killed in action, it would be together, protecting defenseless civilians. I didn't feel ready to die."

Sam was finding it increasingly difficult on her part to banish all feelings of gratitude towards Phantom. If he hadn't chosen to intervene, she would have suffered greatly at the hands of the Night Police before they finally decided to kill her. Perhaps it was fortunate that she had not managed to make it out of that alleyway. If Sam had unknowingly left Phantom's territory, she would not be alive.

It was pathetic, how the fact that her life had been spared the previous night had been subject to mere whimsical fancy on Phantom's part. Dull discomfort crept into the pit of her stomach at the thought. She owed her life to a _ghost_. As unlikely as it was that Phantom would ever require anything from her, Sam fervently hoped that he did not consider his rescuing her as a blood debt. She shuddered to think how she would ever be able to repay a ghost of his strength.

"Sam?" Valerie uttered quietly, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Yeah Val?" Sam replied. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling an upsurge of affection for Valerie.

"Nothing," her best friend shrugged, as though embarrassed, as she allowed a slight smile to grace her features. "I'm just glad you survived."

**Author's Notes:** Whew. Sorry about how long it took me to update. My muse just refused to work with me. Although in my defense, I've written a lot more for later chapters than I thought I would. Hope you enjoy the slightly longer chapter!:D

**Many thanks** to the amazing: _Koccinelle, Writer's-BlockDP, Musicallity, yuuki, b4k4 ch4n, Manyara, Marie9, Acoustic Maiden, Chaos Dragon, Angelic Kittens, Grumbles, vanalivi, Sweeteen19, EmeraldCalling, Alchemistress, pearl 84, HikaruOfDreams, Nobody Famous, bloodmoon13, Denarius, Black January, soaring-bright-flame, The Big Red Fish, Elanor Pam _and _Funkyfish199_1 for their wonderfully encouraging reviews that got my butt in gear to update.

**Metanoia **chapter 15's finally going to be posted tomorrow, so please stick around for that!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the installment. If you want to totally make my day, please hit that review button;)

**Hugs and Kisses**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	6. Providence

For _Chaos Dragon_. Vroom;)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except the plot.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 5**

**Providence**

A month passed without event, and some of Sam's mounting paranoia that Phantom had learned of the brotherhood's location had begun to ebb. If Phantom had truly been seeking the destruction of the brotherhood, he would've had ample opportunities to strike during the past weeks. The ghost hunter's newfound fear had forced her to consider the vulnerability of the brotherhood, as she found herself imagining endless scenarios of how Phantom would singlehandedly lay siege to their headquarters, the array of methods he chose to employ each more morbid than the last.

She was refused refuge from him, even in her dreams. Sam allowed herself a fervent shiver as she recalled the most recent nightmare that had occurred two nights ago, in which Phantom, under orders from Pariah, had overshadowed her, siphoning her mind with demonic glee in his endeavor to learn of the rebels' location, leaving her in a state of contamination frightfully similar to her mentor's cursed condition. She could only be thankful that her muffled nocturnal screams and struggles had miraculously failed to wake her partner bunking next door.

The brotherhood were fighting for a losing cause; a fact that Sam had always been aware of. But before her encounter of Phantom, it had never quite hit the ghost hunter exactly how dire the rebels' current circumstances were. If a single powerful ghost, such as the Fright Knight, Phantom, or god forbid, Pariah Dark, were to learn of their location, the entirety of her brethren would be dead within the hour. Valerie had been right in her predictions. The brotherhood would be exterminated within their lifetimes. And if something was not done soon, they would lose even earlier than anticipated. Without them, who was there to defend the innocents of Amity Park?

Maddie's apprentice ran a shaky hand through her raven hair, as she regarded the situation in a different light. A month had passed, and still no Phantom. Sam supposed she should be immensely relieved that the ancient ghost had decided to leave the brotherhood in peace. Perhaps his stance in the war was truly as impassive as he had claimed.

Yet, the ghost hunter found herself increasingly frustrated, as the ghost had made no effort to try and contact her. Sam knew it to be the truth, that she would never be able to find Phantom unless he willed it, but that had not stopped her from attempting to locate him over the past few weeks; his lack of correspondence had made her restless.

Sam couldn't believe that she had assumed, no, anticipated that Phantom would risk capture by the brotherhood to reclaim from her possession something as frivolous as a t-shirt. He had survived as long as he had by not taking fool's chances. Why would he waste his time retrieving an object of no spectral value from a nameless human girl? The less she saw of him, the better.

Although Sam could not deny that she was in a way, glad that Phantom had not sought to retrieve it. She would never admit to anyone other than herself, but the ghost hunter had grown ever so slightly attached to the article of clothing, especially since she had taken to wearing Phantom's shirt to bed the nights she remained at the brotherhood. It was large, pleasantly soft, from years of wear no doubt, and of a dull, nondescript colour. The Goth saw no reason why she shouldn't be wearing it. True, it had once belonged to a ghost, but it was hers now, and living testimony that she had survived an assault by the Night Police.

Sam had been forced endure this unbearable uncertainty for a month, a month too long by any account. The ghost hunter's eyes narrowed, as she felt herself filled with new resolve. She would not rest until she found Phantom. Sam was sure that she had more than enough information on the ancient ghost for Tucker to identify him. '_Phantom_' was almost certainly an alias. After all, what ghost would be arrogant to assume such a name the moment of his birth, while he was yet inferior and vulnerable to superior forces?

She would track him singlehandedly. If Phantom truly resided in Amity Park, the task would be difficult, but not impossible. Should he decide to blast her into oblivion, the brotherhood would suffer no other mortalities from the encounter. This was Sam's risk to take, and hers alone. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she allowed this opportunity to pass by.

In order to state her case to Phantom, she was going to need information on him to appeal to his better nature, assuming he had one. To put it simply, she needed Tucker.

-

Phantom ignored the steady wisps of frost escaping his lips as he remained hidden in the safety of an alleyway located in one of the seedier, more run down areas of Amity Park, his features obscured by the cowl of his dark cloak as he endeavoured to control his mounting frustration at the delicacy of his situation. He had known that the Fright Knight would come for him. The intruder could be no other; there was no mistaking the spectral signatures of supernatural entities of their caliber. Confrontation, no matter how he sought to prolong it, was inevitable.

The ghost had done everything within his power to maintain a low profile, to keep himself off the radar of both the brotherhood and the empire for as long as possible. If word reached Pariah of his strength, Phantom knew that it would result in him becoming forcibly recruited. It was no secret that the ghost king was fast growing sick of his general's failures.

He supposed that was the reason for the Fright Knight's hatred towards him; his hunter probably feared that Phantom would one day replace him at Pariah's side. The ghost snorted; he had no interest in being under the ghost king's employ. The less contact he had with Pariah's subordinates, the better. It was unfortunate that in keeping a low profile, he was forced to conceal himself amongst humans.

As the evening progressed, he had been subjected to several strange looks by the mortal inhabitants of the street as they passed by, to his immense annoyance. It was humiliating that a paranormal being of his strength had been reduced to dwelling amongst the citizens of Amity Park, no matter how temporarily. The humans probably thought him a blood traitor, a deserter who had cast aside all dignity to serve their cruel dictators. But so long as they did not inconvenience him in any way, Phantom was content to leave them in peace.

After all, humans bored him. The ghost had no interest in their mundane, day to day activities, nor would he ever understand why Pariah Dark was so determined to conquer the human realm. It wasn't like the humans were capable of helping the ghost king further his power.

The brotherhood girl that he had saved, and her partner, had proved to be exceptions to his normally deprecatory view of humans. Sam, like all human females had appeared frail, yet beneath her delicate appearance lay an unexpectedly fiery demeanor. She had refused to show any signs of weakness in his presence, much to his intrigue, despite the fact that he clearly intimidated her.

Phantom had to admit, he was curious as to what exactly the rebels thought they were fighting for. What drove them to keep fighting, despite unsurmountable odds against superior forces? And what had stopped Pariah crushing their spirits, as he had the rest of the humans in his empire?

The ghost scowled, not used to the severe restraints placed on his abilities. He despised adopting this cumbersome form. It was inconceivable how humans endured this torture for the duration of their lives. He felt defenseless, and painfully vulnerable. If the Fright Knight struck now, he would be incapable of retaliating. Phantom was fast, but he doubted that he would be fast enough to escape the Fright Knight, especially in his current humiliatingly limiting form.

It was inevitable that this evening would end in bloodshed. Merely managing a civil conversation with the Fright Knight was an impossibility in itself. Phantom massaged his knuckles, his expression was grim. If he continued recklessly defying the empire, such as his impulsive rescue of the brotherhood girl, it seemed unlikely that he would survive to his third decade.

To simply remain here and bide his time could not be seen as anything other than cowardice. The Fright Knight was no doubt aware that he knew of his presence; the general knew it was only a matter of time until Phantom would be forced to show himself. It was at least some comfort that his adversary was incapable of sensing him, one of the few advantages of Phantom's unfortunate ability to assume the form of a human male.

The other was that he found himself unaffected by the lunar cycle that governed the abilities of his kin. Although this meant that he lacked the substantial increase in strength as the moon reached its zenith, his powers were assured consistency, irrespective of nature's influences as the moon waned. Tonight, the moon was barely more than a slim crescent. Fright Knight had probably assumed that they would be at a mutual disadvantage, a faulty assumption that Phantom was only too willing to use against him.

A low hiss escaped his lips as he attempted to ignore the discomfort of the unfamiliar transformation, twin silver halos encasing his cloaked silhouette as he returned to his true spectral form.

Phantom pursed his lips in grim anticipation, as adrenaline surged through his veins. Let the Fright Knight come. There was no way that the general would not have sensed his transformation. To him, it would have seemed as though Phantom had just entered the area.

Now, it was only a matter of time until the general arrived to seek him.

-

Sam hovered nervously behind the doorway of Lancer's laboratory, as she asked herself why she was doing this for the umpteenth time in minutes. Maddie had specifically ordered her not to pursue the matter, and Sam could not deny that there had been much wisdom in her leader's choice. Maddie's apprentice didn't think she had ever willingly disobeyed her mentor before. Failed her, yes. The ghost hunter flushed, as she recalled the most memorable instance of her inadequacies that had occurred merely a month ago. The irony had not escaped her that in order to ensure the survival of the rebels, she was going to have to defy their leader.

She threw a glance at the digital clock at the opposite end of the hallway. Would Valerie suspect the true reason that she was late for their sparring session? Of course she wouldn't. The ghost hunter felt a pang of guilt at leaving her team mate in the dark, but she knew what Valerie's stance would be on the matter. Her partner would fiercely object to any plan that resulted in the brotherhood being affiliated with ghosts.

Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on the solid laboratory door. "Tucker?"

"Hey," Tucker greeted, grinning as his team mate entered the lab. "What brings you here?"

"Is Lancer with you?" the ghost hunter queried as she scanned her cluttered surroundings.

"Nope, he's with Maddie," Tucker replied. "I have the place to myself for a couple of hours. Why the secrecy?" Her best friend asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

"I need a favour," the ghost hunter began, fully aware that she had to ask him now before she lost her nerve. "But I can guarantee that you're not going to like it."

"Ask away," her best friend replied, intrigued.

Sam took a deep breath, steadying herself for the outraged response she expected to follow. "I need you to look into Lancer's database for ancient ghosts of Medieval origins."

"Woah," her tech operative took a step backwards, disconcerted. "Didn't Maddie tell you that this ghost was off limits?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "But she doesn't have to find out that I asked you to do this."

"I'm not going to defy our leader just because you have a hunch," Tucker refused. "Don't you understand how lucky you are that he let you go? He could've kept you for his own evil, vile, putrid purposes."

"You're certainly keen to condemn a ghost you've never met," Sam arched an eyebrow, amused at her tech operative's vehemence.

"He's just a ghost," the techno geek snorted. "What's there to meet? If I had my way, I wouldn't even be within a ten mile radius of him."

"We've got to at least try," the ghost hunter pleaded. "Phantom could be the key to winning the war."

"Alternatively, on the off chance that our leader is right," Tucker retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "He could easily be the destruction of the brotherhood."

"Maddie hasn't met him," Sam insisted. "I know I can get him to fight for us. I have a hunch that all I need is a little leverage."

"But what do you have to barter that he hasn't already managed to obtain over the past few centuries? Even if he does resent Pariah enough to rebel against him, we have nothing to offer in return," Tucker scowled. "Unless you mean for us to offer him our servitude?" he queried wryly.

"Not servitude," Sam flushed, all too aware that the brotherhood held nothing of use to Phantom. "Perhaps just amnesty when the war is over."

"Phantom does not fear us," Tucker continued, aware he was gaining the upper hand in their debate. "He has never feared us. He will most likely take our offer of amnesty as an insulting underestimation of his abilities."

"Aren't you even the slightest bit curious why he isn't on Pariah Dark's side?" Sam questioned, changing tactics. If Tucker could not be persuaded to see reason, she would attempt to appeal to the scholar within him. Once piqued, Tucker's curiosity was almost impossible to satiate, a quality that made him an unparalleled inventor among his peers.

"Why are you so determined to offend him?" her best friend raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "I don't think someone in his position wants to be reminded of his past."

"Because Valerie's right," Sam grated out. "It's only a matter of time. Pariah is going to crush the brotherhood within the next couple of years and I don't want to die knowing that I hadn't done everything in my power to ensure its survival."

"So you're going to risk your life on account of your conscience?" Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Let's look at it this way. Supposing by some miracle, the brotherhood survives another two decades and you get yourself blown up now, who is going to lead us once Maddie falls? Why do you think our leader insists on keeping you safe?"

"It isn't necessarily going to be me, Maddie's never said so. Jazz could do it," Sam insisted firmly. "Or Valerie, or _you_. There is no shortage of strong candidates," the ghost hunter blushed, suddenly aware how frivolous and childishly impulsive he had made her request seem. "Besides, the council decides, not Maddie."

"I'm flattered you think that I could lead the brotherhood," Tucker commented dryly. "But we all know that it's going to be you. So forgive me if I refuse to help you get killed."

"This is assuming we even find out enough about Phantom for me to locate him," his best friend glared. "Why can't anyone else see what a golden opportunity this is for the brotherhood?"

"Alright, you win," Tucker sighed. It was just a bit of research, he reasoned. No harm would come of pacifying his team mate. "Has anyone ever told you that you're insane?" he grumbled.

"Just you," Sam stuck her tongue out in a childish gesture. "Tells us something, doesn't it?"

"Don't tell Valerie," Tucker commented dryly. "She'll kill us both, if Maddie doesn't get there first."

"Thank you," Sam grinned, crushing her tech operative in a hug. She knew Tucker would never betray her. Not even to their leader. "I knew you'd come round eventually."

"I'm going to need a couple of leads," Tucker began, cracking his knuckles. "How much did you manage to find out about him?"

"Not very much," Sam admitted, frowning. "He wasn't very willing to answer my questions."

""Real helpful," her best friend chewed his lower lip. "We'll start with the basics, then. Name?"

"Phantom," the ghost hunter informed. "But that's probably just one of his aliases."

"At least it's something," Tucker encouraged. "Level of intelligence?"

Sam scowled, as she recalled Phantom's skepticism that not all humans were mentally inferior to his kin. "He has to be pretty smart to have survived as long as he has," she conceded grudgingly. "But he severely underestimates our mental capabilities."

"Age?" her team member quipped.

"Approximately five hundred years. Possibly more. Apparently he and the Fright Knight go way back."

"And you're not worried they're not going to team up and try to kill us all?"

"No," Sam affirmed. "They hate each other's guts."

"How did you manage to find that out?" her tech operative asked, incredulous. "Phantom's allegiances aren't exactly a topic for casual conversation."

"Phantom told me," Sam stated simply.

"Right," Tucker snorted, openly skeptical. "And of course you believe him. Obsessions?" he queried, fingers lightning fast on the keyboard.

"None evident," her brow furrowed.

"How did he die?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged helplessly, painfully aware of how much she didn't know about him. Tucker was right. She was taking a huge gamble in seeking out Phantom, risking everything on the hope that he would not destroy her on a whim.

"You're certainly not making my job easy," her best friend commented dryly. "Physical appearance?"

"Humanoid. Tall. White hair, pale skin, looks about your age," Sam drummed her fingers on the table. "Very distinct green eyes, the colour of pure ectoplasm. I can produce a sketch if you'd like."

"Humanoid?" Tucker repeated, dumbly.

"Yes, humanoid," Sam clarified. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"

"I heard you perfectly," her team member retorted. "Does Maddie know what this Phantom of yours looks like?"

"No," the ghost hunter scowled. "Why would it make any difference? She doesn't want us to have anything to do with him."

"Sam," her tech operative cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Have you ever considered that maybe the reason that you've been so inclined to trust Phantom against your better judgement is because he looks, well, human? For all we know, he might have even chosen that appearance to make you empathise with him."

"Phantom's appearance has nothing to do with this," Sam glared, staggered by her best friend's lack of faith in her judgement. "After all, the Fright Knight's corporal form is humanoid," she added, her voice frosty.

"Yes," Tucker conceded, acknowledging her point. "But you have to agree that there is a substantial difference between choosing to appear as a human male of twenty when compared to hulking, demonic medieval warrior, complete with flaming steed," his grin quickly vanished, as he realised that Sam wasn't laughing. "Phantom's true form isn't necessarily going to be as easy to stomach."

"It doesn't matter," the ghost hunter declared, finality evident. "Phantom saved me, and I know there's some good in him. His corporal form is irrelevant."

"If you say so," Tucker raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Known abilities?" the techno geek asked, eager to resume scouring Lancer's database.

"Pyrokinetics and teleportation, among others. We can probably also assume he has all typical abilities characteristic of ghosts," the Goth crossed her arms. "And possibly healing abilities."

"Estimated level of power?" Tucker questioned, and Sam was glad to see that her team mate seemed genuinely interested in considering various advantages of having Phantom at their disposal.

"Phantom crushed a member of the Night Police like he was a toothpick," Sam stated, her tone wry.

The techno geek let out a low whistle as he recorded the information, allowing the database to run its search. "And what makes you certain that he won't incinerate you on the spot when you attempt this proposal?"

"If he wanted me dead, he could have left me in the alley," Sam scowled. "He had me completely at his mercy."

"Maybe, but that still doesn't mean that you should push your luck by-" Tucker's warning was cut off by the self satisfied beeping of the database, notifying them of the results of his query. Sam snorted softly. Tucker's equipment seemed to be embedded with vestiges of his personality.

"Found him," Tucker's eyes widened. "Aragon, formerly a medieval prince. A ghost of above average ability, although his abilities are said to become draconian when angered, whatever that means. Approximately five to six hundred years old. Sound familiar?" her tech operative questioned.

"That sounds like him," Sam replied dryly. "Any strengths or weaknesses that we can use to persuade him to join our cause?"

"None listed," Tucker sighed. "Not much is known about him. Apparently he hardly ever leaves his castle."

"Thanks for trying," the ghost hunter acknowledged, eager to make use of her newly acquired information. "At least now we have a name."

"We don't know for sure that it's actually him," Tucker cautioned. "You might end up offending him before you can even attempt the proposition."

"Believe me," Sam laughed. "Right now, offending him is the least of my worries. I've got to find him first, and that's going to take months."

"Maybe not," her team mate conceded, and Sam could not suppress an uprising of dread. Her tech operative's eyebrows shot upwards as he observed the spectral readings in the vicinity of Sam's ambush skyrocket on Lancer's monitors. "It looks like you're not going to have much trouble finding him after all."

"Phantom?" Sam's stomach plummeted, as she found herself torn between excitement and gut wrenching fear.

"Even better," Tucker chuckled dryly, a hollow sound. "Phantom and the Fright Knight. This would be a good time to see whether his lack of allegiances holds true."

Author's Notes: I am -so- sorry! I meant to update on friday, but my computer's been giving me real problems. It's going to take weeks to fix, so I decided to write this chapter again. Funnily enough, it turned out really different from version one. But I think you'll prefer this version, it's got more Phantom in it;) For some reason, you guys really like him.

Phantom and Sam's paths cross in the next chapter, woohoo!:D

**Many thanks to**: _Koccinelle, yuuki, EmeraldCalling, soaring-bright-flame, Raidon Phantom, Yevievt, Sasia93, niner, Sweeteen19, BR, Musicallity, Tie-dyed Trickster, secret-spy-guy, Kirimori, Nobody Famous, Blue Beluga, Manyara, AcousticMaiden, pearl84, HikaruOfDreams, Shuricel, Amanda _and _Marie9 _for their amazingly encouraging reviews!:D


	7. Confrontation

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 6**

**Confrontation**

"This is insanity," Valerie Gray hissed, as she and Sam endeavoured to conceal themselves in the rooftops in the vicinity of the source of their equipment's skyrocketing ectoplasmic readings. Despite their subjects' lack of mobility, ectoplasmic levels in the area were surging exponentially greater than anything she or Valerie had ever observed. "How did I let you guys talk me into doing this?"

"Because we need information on Phantom," Sam implored. "I know we can get him to fight for us."

"I'm sure," her partner replied sardonically.

"How about because you're our best friend and we love you?" Tucker quipped. "And because we know how much you love risking your life in order to watch two ancient ghosts duke it out in a battle royale?"

"The things I do for you guys," Valerie grumbled, as Sam barely held back a grin. "We're not even going to be able to see them half the time. How are we meant to gather information about these two high levels if they're invisible?"

"Tucker's managed to separate out their spectral signatures," Sam explained. "At the very least, we'll be able to tell which is stronger. It'll be pointless to pursue Phantom's allegiance if he can't beat the Fright Knight."

"They don't seem to be fighting," Tucker commented dryly as he observed his monitor. "Either they're exchanging pre-battle death threats, or we've been noticed and they're discussing ways to kill us."

"This can't be right," Valerie whispered under her breath. "Are you sure your equipment is functioning, Tucker?"

"Yes," their tech operative insisted, adamant.

"We should get closer," Sam insisted. "I want to hear what they're saying."

"Any closer and we might as well sign our own death warrants," Valerie refused. "We already face severe disciplinary action if Maddie realises we're out here."

"At least they're not at the height of their power," Sam reasoned. "The moon's basically non existent."

"If they're that powerful, do you think they care if the moon is waning?" Tucker added, his tone wry. "We're already risking everything to accompany you out here so you can get a second look at this Phantom of yours. In return, do us a favour and try not to get us all killed."

"What are you risking?" Valerie snorted. "_You're_ still cosy at headquarters."

"My equipment might get damaged," their tech operative stated, matter of factly.

"I'm glad you've got your priorities in order," Sam chuckled dryly. "I'm going to try and listen in on them," she continued, expression sobering. "It's too much to ask of you to come with me if you don't want to, Val."

"You're not going to get rid of me so easily," Valerie grinned, grabbing hold of her partner's wrist as she attempted to depart. "Remember what happened the last time we split up?"

"I still don't regret what I did," the ghost hunter insisted. "They could've killed us both. I'm the only one who's actually interested in seeking out Phantom. If circumstances call for it, promise me you'll run."

"We stand a better chance together," her partner maintained firmly. "And after all this trouble, this Phantom of yours had better be worth it."

-

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you returned seek me." Phantom conceded grimly, making no move to stop the Fright Knight circling him on his impressive dark steed, reminiscent of a lion stalking his prey. Much of the ghost general's power came from his ability to strike fear deep in the hearts of his adversaries, and the ghost refused to admit, even to himself, that his adversary's presence inspired even the slightest of dread.

"Phantom," Pariah's right hand man spat, wielding the other ghost's name as though it was in itself a brutal insult. "We meet again."

"The Fright Knight," Phantom's luminous green eyes narrowed, wary of the intruder's presence as he recalled their brutal engagement five years ago. But he had become stronger, faster, smarter since then. If this encounter resulted in a fully fledged battle for dominance, he refused to lose. "Will you not do me the simple pleasantry of dismounting?"

"We both know what brings me here," the spirit of Hallowe'en snarled, unsheathing the Soul Shredder. "There is no reason for pleasantries."

Phantom, refusing to dignify the Fright Knight's rejection of his hospitality with an answer, remained silent, each of the elite ghosts sizing the other up for the first time in half a decade.

Discounting the general's displeasure at Phantom's underhanded destruction of his liege men, the white haired ghost was all too aware that the purpose of the Fright Knight's challenge was to gauge Phantom's abilities against his own, to learn how much of a threat to the empire, and himself, the outcast truly was. Despite the circumstances, Phantom allowed himself a wry smirk. If the general had hoped to return today to finish what he had started, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

The ghost had always known this day would come, sans his intervention to save the brotherhood girl. Avoiding confrontation had always been an impossibility in itself. The Fright Knight would not rest until he was slain by his hand. It stung that his best option was to cower and hide, evading the worst of the ghost general's blows in order not to reveal his true strength. If the Fright Knight even began to suspect the real reason for the unnaturally rapid progression of his abilities...

"I see you have finally chosen to forgo the pathetic guise of a child," the Fright Knight regarded Phantom, his voice laced with derision.

"How I choose to appear is none of your concern," the slighter ghost replied coldly. "And _I _see that you have failed to pass on the terms of our truce to your subordinates."

"Your impudence is astounding," the Fright Knight snarled. "Amity Park is under rule of Pariah Dark alone. You own nothing."

"It was previously agreed that I will not impede the empire's endeavors if I was allowed to haunt a small area of Amity Park in peace," Phantom growled, his voice deep, matching the authority of the older ghost. "The ghost king gave his word."

"You are an ignorant fool, Phantom," his adversary subjected him to a look of contempt, as though unable to comprehend his stupidity. "Do you really think that Pariah Dark will be satisfied until he has the entirety of Amity Park under his control?"

"You cannot deceive me, Fright Knight," the corners of Phantom's lips to curved upwards in a smirk. "Pariah did not send you. You are here merely because of your own foolish pride."

"You allowed a member of the brotherhood to escape, compromising my standing in the king's eyes over the petty matter of a human wench," the Fright Knight snarled. "You cannot deny that it was intentional."

The youthful ghost allowed himself to experience a slight flutter of relief before turning his full attention back to the threat before him. Thankfully, Sam seemed to have had avoided capture. He was glad for her, but at this moment, she was not the one who required his protection. An engagement with the Fright Knight was the last thing he needed if he wanted to continue to remain off the ghost king's radar.

"The girl was irrelevant," his expression sobered, and all that was visible beneath the cowl of Phantom's dark cloak were two narrowing slits of burnished green. "You had your subordinates enter my territory, despite our previous agreement. I merely acted in retaliation."

"Then where is she now?" the midian roared, as their surroundings erupted in purple flames. "My men returned to the site of the ambush to find that you had taken her. She was to be tortured for information concerning the brotherhood."

"How should I know?" Phantom snorted dismissively, completely unfazed by the general's display. "It is none of my concern if the Night Police are so incompetent that they cannot keep up with the movements of a half dead human girl. She probably managed to crawl her way back to the brotherhood before you realised anything was amiss."

All thought was driven from his mind at the Fright Knight's roar of outrage, as his adversary lunged towards him, fists blazing with ghastly deep purple energy.

Phantom grunted as the first of the general's blows assaulted his hastily constructed shield, but made no effort to return his strikes. He had no wish to further the blood feud between him and the Fright Knight, whatever the other assumed. Phantom scowled; the ghost king's second in command was certainly as strong as he remembered. If his intentions were to propose a second truce between himself and the empire, he was going to have to learn to keep his smart mouth shut and stop goading the Fright Knight.

"You dare accuse me of incompetence, while you, the outcast, continue to hide like a coward from the rest of your kin?"

"The power struggles of my kin do not interest me," Phantom stated flatly. "I do not wish to fight you," he maintained, gritting his teeth as the shield around him strengthened. "We are many moons from All Hallow's Eve; you cannot hope to win."

"I do not require the strength of Hallow Even to defeat the likes of you," the Fright Knight snarled. "I have waited long enough to bring you to justice."

"Justice?" Phantom echoed blankly, subjecting the general to a derisive snort as he dodged the bellow of fire emitted from the ghastly howl of the Fright Knight's steed, the flames spiraling harmlessly behind him. "What _justice_ has ever been achieved under Pariah's rule?"

"I have been forced to endure my liege's mercies towards you for long enough," the general declared. "You will regret your impudence, Phantom."

"Pariah does not care for mercy. As we speak, Walker's jails overflow with those who have suffered centuries under Pariah, human and ghost alike," Phantom's eyes blazed green, digging the balls of his feet deep into the earth as he grounded himself behind his spectral shield. Would his reckless decision to rescue a single human female cost the lives of countless others who bore the misfortune to be caught in his and the Fright Knight's cross fire? "When you can no longer serve his purposes, you too will be disposed of."

"My liege values my servitude," the Fright Knight ground out, and Phantom could practically sense the contempt emitted from his adversary's attacks, as the architecture around them crumbled in their wake. "It has my duty for centuries. But I suppose the concept of honour is something I cannot expect an outlaw to understand."

Striking white eyebrows lowered to frame narrowing green eyes, frustrated by the Fright Knight's destruction of the town in his attempts to slay him. If he could not convince the Fright Knight to cease his attack, it would not take long for the town to be reduced to nothing more than rubble. The general was not inclined to listen to one he regarded as his enemy, blinded by his unconditional loyalty towards the ghost king. Perhaps, Phantom considered, this was why he no longer feared the Fright Knight. Despite his power, the midian was nothing more than Pariah's glorified lap dog.

He refused to allow more innocent lives to be lost on his account. It was no small mercy that due to the late hour, mortalities would be kept to the minimum. If he could turn their engagement into an aerial battle, there was a slim chance the ghost general's devastating attacks might dissipate before they struck the town below.

The wind tore at his vision as he took to the air, knowing fully well that his adversary would follow.

_-_

"Phantom's really not one for confrontation, is he?" Tucker commented wryly as they observed the ancient ghost's repeated endeavours to escape the general. "What use will he be to us if he refuses to fight?"

"At least he's holding his own against the Fright Knight," Sam chewed her bottom lip, thoughtful. It was not difficult for her to understand the reasons for the ghost's actions. If Phantom's objective truly was to stay out of the war for as long as possible, it would bring him no benefit to advertise the true extent of his abilities to the ghost king's right hand man.

"Always, you run and hide," the midian bellowed, angered by Phantom's rejection of his issue of challenge. "Why reveal yourself for the first time in five years if you refuse fight me, coward?"

"_Five years?"_ Valerie mouthed, to which Sam could do nothing more than shrug helplessly in reply. The ghost hunter had been under the impression that the ancient ghosts' feud was far more longstanding. Sam knew what her partner had to be thinking, but made no move to pursue the matter. This was hardly the appropriate time to bring up her best friend's grief.

Valerie Gray still mourned for her mother, who had been one of the several murdered in the Fright Knight's unexplained rampage of the town five years ago. There was no way that her partner would ignore the possibility that Phantom was directly responsible for Martha Gray's death.

Judging from the ecto signatures, the brotherhood had managed to discern a second, separate entity involved; Phantom, perhaps. But Lancer's findings of another ghost's presence had immediately been written off by the council as nothing more than a subordinate of the general's, leaving Sam wondering why the notion that the wreckage could have been caused by a disagreement between two ghosts had never before be considered by the brotherhood.

Sam felt her mouth grow dry as she observed the progression of the spectral battle taking place before them. How had the brotherhood's founders even found the will to lead the first rebels against demons of such strength?

She felt bile rise to the back of her throat in latent foreboding. The Fright Knight's brutal assault appeared to be taking its toll. No matter how powerful Phantom had proven himself to be, he would be no match for the Fright Knight unless he began retaliating with more than evasive techniques and occasional counter blows. Sam could tell that Phantom was slowly tiring, his energy was being used up faster than it could be replaced as he strove to defend himself against the ghost general's complex attacks.

The ghost hunter could not quell the uprising dread that she had brought Valerie to her death, as they watched Phantom endure the brunt of the ghost general's wrath without retaliation, painfully aware that it would take nothing more than one misfired blast in their direction to doom them, while they blithely sat on the rooftops below, observing the pretty colours caused by ghostly blows exchanged too fast for mortal eyes to see. It was no small mercy that the ghostly contenders seemed unaware of their presence.

"This is unbelievable," Valerie whispered, as the Fright Knight's sword tore through the dark material of Phantom's cloak as he barely dodged the general's attack, shredding the black fabric into jagged ribbons.

The white haired ghost snarled, eyes flaring burnished green as he ripped the now useless article of clothing from his form by its cowl, carelessly discarding it as it fluttered several hundred feet to the ground. Phantom was fast growing sick of running, Sam noticed grimly. The slighter ghost raised a hand, fingers furling around the hilt of the translucent, ethereal sword materialising in his grasp as he lunged towards the Fright Knight to approach him in close combat.

Despite her previous encounter of Phantom, it frustrated Sam to admit that she knew next to nothing about the extent of Phantom's abilities. If even the ghost general was incapable of forcing him to reveal his true strength, she would come away from this evening having learned nothing, not even the source for the two ancient ghosts' mutual animosity.

"Are you getting all of this, Tuck?" Sam questioned, her brow furrowing as she noted Phantom's abrupt choice of weapon. Was this a clue to his medieval origins?

"Yep," their tech operative replied, letting out a low whistle, impressed. "I wonder what else Phantom's got hidden up his sleeve."

"Chances are, we'll find out soon enough," Valerie remarked. "He's not going to hold out like this for much longer."

Sam's previous observations regarding Phantom's fatigue were proved correct when the white haired ghost stumbled backwards, expression grim as he hastily scrubbed at his cheek to quell the flow of a thin line of ectoplasm where the general had nicked him. The Fright Knight took the opportunity to dismount his steed, battering the white haired ghost with a series of ectoplasmic blasts before Phantom could gather the time to recover.

"Are you finally prepared to yield?" the Fright Knight questioned, his deep voice smug, as he regarded Phantom's youthful form, the white haired ghost doubling over in pain as he drew slow, shaky breaths. "For I will remain until I consider your insult to me nullified," the general adjusted his riding gloves in a manner morbidly reminiscent of an executioner.

"___No,_" he hissed, and Sam was taken aback by the venom is his tone. Before this moment, Phantom's retorts had always been cold or sardonic, never openly hostile. Had the Fright Knight finally pushed him over the edge? "Leave now, and I will not be forced to attack you," Phantom growled, painfully aware of the futility of his statement. "We are many moons from All Hallow's Eve, and I have advanced in power since out last encounter. This time, we will not be evenly matched."

"Pain has addled your mind," the ghost general mocked. "Why would I leave now, when you are completely at my mercy?"

"Go home, Fright Knight," Phantom snarled.

"Perhaps I shall extract a keepsake to remember you by," the midian continued, oblivious to his adversary's mounting fury. "Decapitation is a firm favourite of mine, although I must admit that you are hardly important enough to merit an entire head in my display of past conquests. Perhaps an eye will suffice-"

"Leave me ___ALONE_."

Phantom; there was simply no other way to describe it; he _roared_.Sam looked on in horror; the sheer force of the sonic wave sent the Fright Knight hurtling backwards as the hideous wailing escaped Phantom's lips, crushing the general's armor.

She and her partner were brought to their senses as they too were subjected to the backlash of Phantom's assault. Lilac eyes squeezed shut as the pair huddled close together to avoid the shattered glass that rained upon them from buildings above, the almost ethereal tinkling of the fragments as they landed seemed out of place with the magnitude of the bloody feud unfolding above them. Needless to say, they were oblivious to Tucker's cry of outrage as their equipment shattered around them.

The trio remained silent, stunned as they observed Phantom's wave of destruction progress, ripping ugly lacerations through the black membrane of the Fright Knight's steed's great bat like wings. The dark stallion screeched in pain, flailing wildly as ectoplasm oozed from its wounds, peppering the night sky with eerie droplets of luminous green, its shrill cries barely discernible through Phantom's bellow of rage as the beast plummeted towards the earth with each failing beat of its once impressive wings, no longer capable of flight.

"Nice," Valerie wrinkled her nose, uncovering her ears to flick flecks of ectoplasm off her stealth suit.

"Still convinced you can persuade that ___thing_ to fight for us?" Tucker queried wryly, his voice crackling in the shell of Sam's ear from the interference of the sonic blast.

Sam opened her mouth, parting her lips slightly as if to speak, before deciding against it, choosing instead to run her tongue over her bottom lip in a nervous gesture. There was no denying that Tucker was right. If Phantom matched, or from the looks of how the battle was now progressing, ___surpassed_ the Fright Knight in power, what was to stop him from surpassing the ghost general in brutality?

"You two have seen enough," their tech operative asserted firmly, fear for his team mates' lives evident. "Get out of there while you still can."

"For once, I'm with Tucker," Valerie agreed, placing a hand on her partner's shoulder. "We should go. Phantom's just proved to us that he's no better than the Fright Knight."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam insisted fiercely, shrugging off Valerie's grip. "Not till I speak with him. He's still the brotherhood's only chance of survival."

"You don't know that," Valerie protested. "I don't know if you've noticed the same things I did, but Phantom's a _monster,_" her best friend's expression hardened as they observed the white haired entity advance upon the general's wounded steed, ectoplasmic energy dancing at his fingertips, as Sam found herself gripped by unexpected pity towards the beast. She prayed that Phantom would have to mercy to make its death quick.

"Is _that_ what you've chosen to gamble the brotherhood's future with?" her partner demanded, taking advantage of Sam's hesitation to drive her point home as they observed the destruction of the stallion with mild horror.

Yet, Sam knew that despite how ugly the situation, it was to the brotherhood's advantage that Phantom had been endowed with such monstrous abilities. Winning the war while maintaining their honour was one thing, but recruiting Phantom in order to stave off destruction by Pariah Dark's hand was another thing entirely.

"Countless times have I declared that I have no desire to battle you in my own territory, yet you refused to heed my warnings. Yield, Fright Knight." Phantom growled, a low rumbling in the back his throat that reminded Sam of thunder at a distance. "I have proven that I cannot be slain by your hand."

"You will pay for the inconvenience you have caused me by slaying Nightmare," the ghost general whispered, bitterness thick in his voice.

"This is your final warning, Fright Knight," the white haired ghost's eyes blazed green. "Leave; while you are still accepted in Pariah's court, or you will meet a similar end."

"Very well, _traitor_," the general spat, engulfing himself in searing purple flames as he made his retreat. "You have doomed yourself. When I return on All Hallow's Eve, you will not survive past midnight."

Sam watched as Phantom shrugged, unperturbed by his adversary's threat, choosing instead to run his tongue running along the side of his lips to catch the ectoplasm still flowing freely from the cut he had received from the ghost general's infamous Soul Shredder. It was said that those struck by the Fright Knight's weapon of choice suffered a fate worse than death. The ghost hunter frowned, her eyes trained on Phantom as she scrutinised the ghost's tall form for tell tale signs of betrayed weakness, discountenance evident when she found none.

If Phantom was strong enough to be immune to the effects of the Soul Shredder, he would be an invaluable asset to the brotherhood. But the council would never agree to it. Then again, Sam reasoned as she felt herself filled with fresh resolve, the council never had to find out that she had attempted to coerce Phantom into joining their cause. The time for the rebels' age old traditions and typical constraints was long past. If something wasn't done soon, Pariah would have them crushed.

"I'll be right back," the ghost hunter declared, turning on her heels as she sprinted towards Phantom.

"_Sam,_" Valerie called after her, annoyance tinged with fear evident in her tone as the ghost hunter ignored her team mates' demands for her to return to the safety of their headquarters. If she didn't act now, Sam knew that she would regret her decision for the rest of her life. The ghost hunter refused to allow this opportunity to pass the brotherhood by.

She would ensure that she captured Phantom's attention, one way or another.

**Author's Notes:** Phew, I'm actually working at about one update a week, which is phenomenal for me! Hopefully, I'll manage to keep this up. -crosses fingers-

Also, a word of warning. **Anathema's Abode**, if you choose to stick by me, is probably going to end up running in excess of forty chapters, unless I start doing some major plot editing. Just so you know what you're getting yourself into;)

**Thanks** go to the wonderful: _Chanel2U, nightlightwriter, soaring-bright-flame, Black January, Zilleniose, aaran924, Tie-dyed Trickster, REviwer, Sweeteen19, Manyara, hydraling110, Amethyst Ocean, Raidon Phantom, Koccinelle, Kirimori, pearl84, Marie9, Musicallity, kia, captainjackluver14, CharmedNightSkye, Acoustic Maiden, Lord Zahr, danny-fan-101, Xweetok, EmeraldCalling, FreakLevel27, bloodmoon13, Writer's-BlockDP, Sasia93 _and last but not least _Angelic Kittens_. I have no idea what I'd do without you guys:D

As you guys have probably noticed by now, I'm not exactly big in the creativity department when Phantom's ghost powers are involved, especially since he's got quite a few years on cannon Danny. Suggestions for unusual powers that Phantom should have would be greatly appreciated!

As always, please review if you enjoyed the installment!:D

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	8. Proposition

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Danny Phantom.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 7**

**Proposition**

"Phantom." Sam called after him.

"Sam," he turned to acknowledge her, mild surprise evident on his features.

"Is this a bad time?" the ghost hunter questioned, surveying with morbid curiosity the multitude of injuries Phantom had received whilst battling the Fright Knight.

The ghost merely shrugged nonchalantly. "I knew you would seek me out," he greeted, cocking a white eyebrow in acknowledgment. "I hope you appreciated that," his tone was wry. "That confrontation could've been prolonged by several decades if not for you."

"Sorry," the ghost hunter winced, knowing that she had played at the very least, a small part in the engagement. "At least you won," Sam offered, unsure what an appropriate response would be to a ghost who had just beaten the Fright Knight in a bloody duel. "I guess congratulations are in order."

"I see no cause to celebrate, having won a duel that I had no wish to take part in. Congratulations are never in order when you've failed to prevent your adversary from destroying half of the inner city," Phantom replied flatly, his expression grim. "My ineptitude has caused several of your kin their lives."

"It was out of your control," Sam maintained, taken aback by Phantom's stance regarding the loss of human life. The ghost hunter wouldn't have thought that the ancient ghost would've cared. "Is that why you took to the air halfway through the battle?" she questioned. "My team mates just thought you were running away from the conflict. Not that we doubted your fighting abilities," the ghost hunter added hastily, wary of offending the midian.

"I doubt my own abilities all the time," Phantom reassured, shrugging. "What can I do for you?" the ghost queried, as their gazes locked. "This encounter must hold some importance for you if you have chosen to reveal yourself to me despite the risks involved."

Sam took a deep breath, steadying herself for what was to come. "I have a proposition," she stated, proud that her voice was devoid of a single waver.

"Did the brotherhood send you?" the white haired ghost questioned, pausing to allow himself a moment to ponder the implications of her statement through barely veiled amusement. "Because no matter how your brethren choose to seek my sympathy, my answer will most probably be no."

"Please," she implored, refusing to falter as her gaze met his own. "I'm not leaving until you hear me out."

"I'm listening," he raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "But first, remove all weapons and surveillance devices currently on you."

"Excuse me?" the ghost hunter managed out, completely thrown.

Phantom shrugged nonchalantly. "The only circumstances in which I will agree to consider your proposal is when you are unarmed and of no threat to me. So kindly do as I ask."

"And if I refuse?" Sam challenged. The ghost hunter had no intention of being separated from her equipment, especially when she was being faced with a ghost of Phantom's strength.

"I strongly recommend you don't," he replied dryly. "I suppose you can keep whatever has been grafted to your skin, but those bracelets are definitely not staying on you. I refuse to subjected to the inconvenience of having my actions tracked by the brotherhood."

"I am _not_ removing my equipment," the ghost hunter maintained fiercely. "Don't you have any other alternatives?"

"We could always do things my way," he raised an eyebrow, as the corners of his lips quirked upwards in a smirk. "Only this time, you won't have the luxury of being unconscious."

The ghost hunter subjected Phantom to a withering glare, despite the heat rising in her cheeks at the memory. "No," Sam refused, as lilac eyes narrowed in mistrust. "What's going to stop you from harming me?" she demanded.

"If you will not remove your equipment, I will." Phantom threatened, ignoring her question, his previous goodwill rapidly evaporating. "Unless you'd rather I left."

"_Fine_," she glowered, tossing her ecto blasters to the ground. "But after all this, you'd better at least take into account what I have to say."

"Do you think I'd put you through all this trouble if I wasn't the least bit interested in your proposition?" the ghost questioned, amused by Sam's ire as she muttered curses under her breath.

Phantom looked on, silently impressed at the sizable pile of equipment collecting at his feet. It was remarkable how much Sam had managed to pack onto her form, for one so small. "Especially the Fenton thermos," he added, seemingly oblivious to the promise of bodily harm emanating from Sam's gaze. "I'd rather you didn't attempt to capture me. I could break out," he continued, subjecting her to a significant look. "But it'll take too much effort. So why waste time on both our parts?"

"If I was going to try and capture you, I would've done it by now," the ghost hunter growled in annoyance. She roughly tore off her ghost gauntlets, ignoring the pain as the silver bracelets grazed the tender flesh of her wrists. How could she have forgotten how much of an arrogant bastard he was? "_Now_ are you prepared to listen to me?" the ghost hunter demanded, as her tracking devices joined the rest of her equipment on the ground with a soft chink. She placed her fists on her hips, irritably awaiting Phantom's approval.

"I said to remove _all _of your equipment," he repeated dryly, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in mirth at Sam's frosty glare, as she grudgingly reached between her shoulder blades and withdrew a slim knife as Phantom bit back a laugh.

Having previously undressed her to tend to her wounds, it had been too much to hope that Phantom would have forgotten where she kept her weapons, especially since he had previously proven that he was clearly not lacking in intelligence. Unless he had written down the contents of her stealth suit somewhere when he had saved her, the fact that he seemed to have committed the workings of her stealth suit to memory with no apparent effort was a frightening prospect in itself.

She wasn't worried about the fate of her equipment; she knew that Tucker would have Valerie pick up after her. Right now, her main concern was that of her own safety. Her previous desire to seek out Phantom tonight was looking less and less favourable by the minute. Not for the first time, she wished she had waited for Valerie to catch up with her.

"You still haven't told me where we're going," Sam's eyes narrowed in distrust, massaging her bare wrists as she endeavoured to forget the delicacy of her situation.

"My apartment," he replied, as though it was obvious, as he extended a hand towards the ghost hunter. "I believe that you'd agree that a deserted alleyway in the middle of the night is perhaps not the best place to speak of rebellion."

Sam faltered, wavering between two mindsets before succumbing to possibly the most stupid decision she had ever made in all eighteen years of her life as she placed her hand in his, ignoring the fervent shivers down her spine from the chill of the contact, despite the almost unbearable warmth of the night air.

"Whatever you do, don't let go," the ghost warned, closing his hand around hers.

The ghost hunter started as she felt herself jolted in and out of existence, as the pair rematerialised in Phantom's apartment, finding herself overtaken by a familiar feeling of disorientation by the accompanying flash of light as the floor seemed to lurch upwards to meet her.

"You okay?" he queried in concern, reaching out to place a hand at the small of her back to steady her.

"Yeah," Sam shook her head to clear its reeling. "That wasn't half as bad as the first time you did that."

"You get the hang of it pretty quickly," he shrugged, grinning in reassurance.

The ghost hunter forced her lips to form a thin smile, feeling painfully vulnerable without any of her equipment as she endeavoured to will herself to ignore the fact that her host would be capable of doing practically anything to her, and she wouldn't be able to stop him.

"I don't know about you, but I'm in serious need of caffeine," Phantom groaned as they entered the kitchen, helping himself to a mug of the dark liquid. "Can I get you anything?" he offered, turning to face her as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets.

Sam found it difficult to not stare at the white haired ghost's battered form as he casually brandished his coffee, his body adorned with the vast evidence of his battle against the ghost general, as ectoplasm trickled slowly down his right forearm from a particularly nasty cut on wrist.

"Just water, please," Sam replied meekly, struggling to tear her gaze from the sight of Phantom nonchalantly running a tongue over his injured wrist to subdue the flow of spectral blood.

"Following me out there was stupid," Phantom admonished, turning to fill her glass under the tap. "The brotherhood must be getting pretty desperate if they're sending little girls to spy on high level duels. Just out of curiosity," he paused, running a finger over the rim of the glass as he laced its interior with frost. "What _were_ you hoping to achieve tonight?"

"No one sent me," she retorted, scowling as she accepted the glass. "I followed you because I wanted to."

"Once again, your audacity is commendable," Sam flushed as the ghost favoured her with a look torn between exasperation and amusement.

"What was I supposed to have done?" she glared. "You left me hanging for more than a month."

"I didn't realise that you were expecting me," his brow furrowed. "Have you tried to find me before tonight?"

"Yes," Sam brought the glass to her lips, sipping the chilled water appreciatively despite the unconventional means Phantom had employed to prepare it. "I suppose you want to know why I'm here," she conceded, battling guilt for defying her mentor. Sam was all too aware that she shouldn't be here, consorting with the enemy. Especially since Maddie had specifically forbidden her to make any further move to contact Phantom. The ghost hunter had no desire to prolong this encounter any more than necessary.

"I must admit this proposal of yours has me curious," Phantom arched a white eyebrow. "What would a member of the brotherhood want with me? And what do you hope to offer that I cannot already singlehandedly obtain?"

"Look," Sam began, "I know this is going to sound insane, but I want you to promise to hear me out."

"I already told you," Phantom set his mug down, seating himself at the kitchen table to join Sam. "I'm listening."

The ghost hunter inhaled sharply, her fingers furling tightly around the dark material of her stealth suit as she steeled herself before she lost her nerve. This was it. Once the words were out of her mouth, she would have defied everything that her brethren had ever stood for.

"I want you to fight for us," she stated, looking up to meet his gaze, unflinching. "An alliance between humans and ghosts has never before been proposed, but with sufficient compromise, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement that will benefit both of us."

"You want me to fight for you," Phantom echoed dryly, making no effort to hide his disbelief. "I can't say I saw that one coming. I was under the impression that you were after something slightly more mundane."

"Both you and the brotherhood suffer disputes with the Fright Knight and ultimately, Pariah Dark," Sam continued, desperate to get her point across before she was asked to leave. "I'm open for negotiations as to what the brotherhood can offer, but the ghost king's defeat is in both of our best interests."

"The only reason that Pariah has not left the ghost zone to strike me down is that I have so far kept out of the empire's way," green eyes narrowed. "If the ghost king were to even suspect that my standing in the war was no longer neutral, I'd be dead before sunrise. As much as I disagree with the methods the king has chosen to employ, they do not concern me."

"Even after the Fright Knight chased you halfway across town, determined to slay you?" Sam demanded fiercely. "We both know that he'll be back, and chances are, one of you is going to end up destroying the other. How will you escape Pariah's notice then?"

"If there's one thing I have faith in, it's the Fright Knight's ridiculous sense of pride," Phantom's tone was wry. "There's no way that he will inform Pariah that he challenged me and lost, unless directly questioned by the ghost king himself. It goes against his very nature."

"You can't hide forever," she maintained. "Sooner or later, you're going to have to pick a side."

"Why are you determined to to convince me to fight for you?" he questioned, intrigued. "I was under the impression that a member of the brotherhood would rather die than entrust their life to a ghost."

"Pariah will crush us if the brotherhood refuses to change its ways," Sam admitted. "We've already got nothing to lose."

"But if you already have nothing to lose, for what point and purpose do you fight?" Phantom quirked a white eyebrow, as though unable to comprehend her logic.

"For justice," Sam immediately replied. "To avenge countless innocent lives lost," her eyes narrowed. Surely the reason she opposed the ghosts would be obvious, even to one of them. Even one of the ghost's own kind could not be blind to the spectres' tyranny.

"Justice?" Phantom echoed dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Define _justice_."

The ghost hunter scowled, opening her mouth to retort when Phantom cut her off. "What is justice, outside the eyes of the beholder, other than an excuse that both sides have been using for centuries to inflict more pain and suffering on the innocent?"

The ghost hunter scowled, raising the glass to her lips as she allowed herself a moment to recover before once again pursuing the subject. "You say you want to be left alone," Sam glared. "But what peace can you hope to achieve under Pariah Dark's rule? The longer it is before you seek to oppose him, the more powerful the empire will become."

"When we met, I made it perfectly clear that I wished to be left in peace," the ghost maintained coldly, as white eyebrows lowered to frame faintly flickering green eyes. "Seeing as to the fact that you owe me your life, kindly respect that decision."

"I didn't ask you to save me," Sam retorted, through barely muted outrage. "What is with you ghosts and your damned god complex?"

"Because we both know how well you would've fared on your own," he replied dryly. "Very well," Phantom conceded, finality evident in his voice. "The next time you are assaulted by the Night Police, I will do you no favours."

Sam paused, suddenly realising how out of control the situation had become. She had come here tonight to attempt to enlist Phantom's services, not test the temper of a ghost at least equal to the Fright Knight in power. No matter the argument, she was still his guest, not to mention that without her equipment, the ghost had her completely under his mercy. "I'm sorry," the ghost hunter apologised. "Your stance in the war really isn't any of my business."

"Apology accepted," Phantom conceded. "I hope in turn that you will forgive me. Fatigue is taking its toll. Can I get you more water?" he queried, gesturing to her empty glass.

"I'm fine, thanks," Sam blushed. "I should probably get going, you need to get cleaned up."

"This is nothing," he snorted, rising to place her empty glassware in the sink. "The Fright Knight is losing his touch. I've gotten myself into far worse scrapes in the past."

"How much worse?" the ghost hunter questioned, endeavouring to hide her surprise that Phantom had decided to divulge information of his previous battles without her prompting.

"He nearly destroyed me five years ago," Phantom's expression was grim. "It was by sheer luck that we managed to draw."

"But if you beat him so easily tonight, how could the general have given you so much trouble the last time you fought?" Sam frowned, perturbed by her own unexpected concern towards the ghost.

"_That_ was hardly easy," Phantom commented dryly, as he took note of the numerous of battle wounds decorating his form. "Circumstances were different tonight," the ghost shrugged. "Fortunately, they were to my advantage."

"What circumstances?" she pressed. "It can't have been the lunar cycle."

"What makes you so certain?" the white haired ghost asked, lips curving upwards into a half smirk as he avoided the question.

Sam's stomach plummeted. Perhaps Phantom wasn't as open for questioning as she had initially thought. "It's unfair of you to tease me with information that you have no intention of disclosing," the ghost hunter protested. "Even if you refuse to tell me anything, I'll find it out eventually."

"And what have you discovered about me?" Phantom cocked a white eyebrow, intrigued.

"Your real name is Aragon," the ghost hunter stated, refusing to falter when challenged. "You're an exiled ghost prince of medieval origins, with age and experience comparable to that of the Fright Knight- why are you laughing at me?" she demanded, flushing as the white haired ghost made no attempt to conceal his amusement.

"You believed me to be _Aragon_?" Phantom repeated incredulously, obviously floored. "That pathetic excuse for royalty?"

"There were no other brotherhood records of ancient ghosts that matched your age, origins, and corporal form," Sam replied defensively, disgruntled by the white haired ghost's response. "Besides, how do I know that you're not lying in order to throw me off your trail?"

"There is a lot the brotherhood doesn't know," Phantom replied dryly, biting his lower lip as he attempted to fight back his laughter.

"And we're going to remain ignorant until you choose to help us," Sam implored. "Please; we are more alike than you know. The brotherhood means you no harm. All we want is to survive the war."

"It's late," he stated, abruptly changing the subject. "Even with the moon waning, it'll be dangerous for you to try to leave, short of me escorting you to the brotherhood's headquarters, should you by some miracle choose to inform me of its location," Phantom grinned, his previous amiability returning.

"I'm out on the streets past curfew almost every night, what makes tonight any different?" she glared, grudgingly accepting his refusal to answer her question. The ghost hunter already knew she was already on thin ice due to her previous outburst; there was no benefit in further aggravating the midian. "I don't need your protection."

"I wasn't saying you did," Phantom raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, as though he was the one wary of _her_ temper. "I don't suppose I could convince you to stay the night until it's safer for you to leave."

"You guessed right," Sam grinned in reply, barely suppressing the childish desire to blow a raspberry at the ancient ghost.

"I'm sorry that I can be of no use to the brotherhood," he offered, the regret on his features genuine. "But I have no wish to compromise my standing in the king's eyes."

"It's okay," the ghost hunter replied, kicking at the toe of her combat boots. "I just thought that I'd ask. Will I see you again?" she questioned.

"You still have my shirt," he replied, fighting back a grin. "So at the moment, it seems pretty likely. What's wrong?" he queried, brow furrowing in concern as Sam subjected him to a strange look.

"Nothing," Sam replied, shaking her head to clear it. "It's just that you seem so different out of battle. Were the big words reserved just for the general?"

"To a certain extent, yes," Phantom grinned ruefully. "I don't think the Fright Knight quite understands modern English. He's slow like that."

"I'll keep that in mind," the ghost hunter laughed, extending her hand so Phantom could grasp it. She was surprised to notice that this time, their mutual teleportation had hardly fazed her. Perhaps Phantom's suggestion that it got better with practice was true.

"It seems that your friend has already got to your equipment," Phantom commented, gesturing to the now empty alleyway. "You're lucky to have such loyal team mates."

"I know," Sam smiled. "They're closer to me than family."

"Be careful," Phantom cautioned. "The streets aren't safe for a lone human female past curfew, brotherhood member or not."

"What makes you think I don't already know that?" she glowered.

"Maybe the fact that your recklessness is constantly proving otherwise," Phantom replied, his voice light. Sam flushed, still unaccustomed Phantom's teasing. "Don't let me hold you up," Phantom's expression sobered, as he turned to leave. "I am doing you no favours by prolonging your time out in the open."

"Will I see you soon?" the ghost hunter queried.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "But I make no promises. It all depends on circumstances out of my control. Until our next meeting, promise me you'll stay safe."

Taken aback, Sam nodded wordlessly in reply, surprised by Phantom's unexpected concern towards her.

"Good night, Sam," the white haired ghost grinned, dematerialising in a flash of white light as he left a very bewildered ghost hunter in his wake.

Rematerialising in his living room, Phantom allowed himself to sink into a sofa with unconcealed exhaustion as he steeled himself for the second, and possibly more trying ordeal of the night.

"I know you're here, Ember," Phantom chuckled dryly at the seemingly empty room. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?"

"Good," the slighter ghost retorted, flickering into vision. "Then there's no way that you wouldn't have expected _this_," she snapped, smacking him roughly upside the head. "What were you thinking?" she demanded. "Compromising our safety like that?"

"Sam means us no harm," Phantom winced, rubbing the back of his head where Ember's blow had aggravated a previous injury by the general. "Besides," he grinned. "She's interesting."

"I didn't risk my existence for you, just to have you throw your life away the moment a pretty brotherhood girl walks by," his friend glared. "What the hell happened? Last time I checked, dipstick, your taste in women hadn't quite extended to the living end of the spectrum."

"Nothing is going to happen with her," Phantom assured, shrugging nonchalantly. "She's just an intriguing subject to pass the time observing."

"And that's why you wound up fighting the general over her," Ember commented wryly, gesturing to his injuries. "I take it you fared better tonight than you did five years ago?"

"Unsurprisingly, yes," Phantom replied. "Old October's losing his touch. I fought the Fright Knight because he sought me out," he continued, his expression sobering. "Surely you didn't expect me to take the coward's way out and flee?"

"No," the blue haired ghost scowled. "I expected you to teleport, turn human, _anything_ that involved a tactical retreat that would have stopped him tracking you."

"Would you have done that in my position?" Phantom challenged, raising a white eyebrow. "You know just as well as I do that confrontation was inevitable. For your information," he added, smirking. "I left him something to remember our encounter by. I slew Nightmare."

"Not bad," Ember raised her blue eyebrows, impressed. "It's a shame you couldn't have destroyed the Soul Shredder while you were at it," she glowered, abruptly recalling her previous exasperation at Phantom. "I'd dress your wounds, but you don't deserve my sympathy," the female ghost snorted. "For god's sake, you even allowed her to entertain the idea of you fighting against the empire."

"I didn't," Phantom insisted. "I thought I made that perfectly clear."

The blue haired woman merely shook her head in annoyance. "I don't think you need me to tell you how stupid you've been. Is my company so dull that you have to resort to humans to keep yourself occupied?"

"Hardly," the white haired ghost replied. "But you know that I've always held some interest in the workings of the brotherhood. How can you not find the transience of humans fascinating?"

"It's your funeral," Ember maintained. "Just don't drag me down with you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he grinned in reply. "Don't you know by now that I'd never doanything that would result in you getting hurt?"

"I know," she conceded, her expression softening. "Just promise me whatever game you're playing at with that human girl, make sure that it doesn't get out of hand."

"It won't," Phantom asserted. "Because there is no game. And there never will be."

"Glad to hear it," Ember sighed, relief evident. "Now go get yourself cleaned up," she demanded, chucking at him the towel that materialised in her grasp. "You stink. It's amazing that with her low human tolerances, this Sam of yours managed to keep from passing out from the stench."

**Author's Notes:** I bet none of you saw that coming! -ducks for cover-

I can't believe how positive all of you have been about **Anathema's Abode **being over forty chapters long. To be perfectly honest, I find the prospect completely daunting. School's also starting soon, so I might start struggling to update once a week. I'll make the most of the time I have left, though! Also, it's amazing how much faster I update when fear of bodily harm is present.

**Many thanks to:**_ Ethereal Fae, Alchemistress, Amethyst Ocean, Writer's-BlockDP, Elanor Pam, Tie-dyed Trickster, nightlightwriter, EmeraldCalling, AcousticMaiden, REviwer, Blue Beluga, passionateartist, Sweeteen19, Lord Zahr, Devilchild93, bloodmoon13, CharmedNightSkye, FunkyFish1991, FreakLevel27, MikeyCam33196, Kirimori, Morgaine of the Faeries, Musicallity, Manyara, Marie9, soaring-bright-flame, PhantomsAngelS2, aaran924, Sasia93, yuuki, HikaruOfDreams, Angelic Kittens, Shuricel, danny-fan-101, A. LaRosa, Don_ and _pearl84 _for the amazingly encouraging reviews that actually got me to finish a chapter in two days. A record for me, woohoo!:D

Please leave a review if you enjoyed the installment!:D

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	9. Choices

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter Eight**

**Choices**

Three months after Sam's second encounter with Phantom, the ghost hunter had yet to hear from him. His spectral signature had registered on none of Tucker's equipment across town, leading the ghost hunter to wonder if the white haired ghost ever left his apartment. Then again, if Phantom had proven himself capable of concealing his presence from Pariah's elite for the past few centuries, evading the brotherhood's primitive technology would be a farce on his part.

Which was just as well, because Sam wasn't exactly sure if she _wanted_ to see him. Over the course of the past few months, the ghost hunter had grown painfully aware of her previous naivety regarding her hopes of enlisting the services of a ghost of Phantom's strength. His duel against the Fright Knight had forced Sam to acknowledge that no matter how much of an anomaly the white haired ghost had proven himself to be, he was still a monster, no different from the rest of the heathen occupying Amity Park. Yet, he had surprised her by displaying genuine regret for the human lives lost on his account in the cross fire of his engagement with the general.

Sam had never been able to regard any ghost with emotions other than those akin to fear and hate. However, the ghost hunter could not help but feel a small uprising of grudging respect emerge whenever her thoughts turned to the white haired ghost. Despite his immense strength, Phantom had yet to lose the entirety of his humanity over his long years in existence. Her new attitude towards the ghost was no doubt responsible in quelling her previously horrific nightmares regarding his gory destruction of the brotherhood, despite the fact that Phantom had now revealed himself to be even more powerful than she had anticipated.

To the ghost hunter's immense irritation, Phantom had also proven himself to be irrefutably intelligent. The ease with which he had recalled the location of all her equipment on her person had unnerved Sam more than she had cared to admit when Phantom had displayed a photographic memory to match that of Jasmine Fenton. The ghost hunter scowled; it would have been sufficient on his part to reject her proposal of an alliance between himself and the brotherhood, but the ghost had managed to turn her argument on its head, forcing her to reassess her own beliefs in the cause she fought for by challenging her to produce an unbiased view of justice which did not result in the detriment of the innocent.

The white haired ghost had pointed out that while the brotherhood fought for freedom with no immediate end in sight, the innocent paid with their lives, and would continue to do so until a clear strategy to rid themselves of occupation could be devised by her brethren. It had almost seemed as though Phantom believed that the brotherhood served no purpose. The ghost hunter scowled; there was no way that she could expect a ghost that had lived in solitude for the vast majority of his existence to understand why she fought to protect others.

"Everything okay?" Tucker queried, taking note of the sour expression that had flashed across her face.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "I was just thinking about what Phantom said when I proposed an alliance."

"At least he was polite," her tech operative commented offhandedly, his fingers never leaving the keyboard. "Judging from the way that he handled the Fright Knight, you got off lucky."

"I know you're frustrated that he didn't agree," Valerie added. "But I don't think that any of the council members would be prepared accept the help of a midian."

"I should've expected him to decline," Sam shrugged. "It would've been pretty suspicious if he agreed straightaway. At least now we know that he's not a spy sent by Pariah."

"How can you be so sure?" Tucker's brow furrowed as he swiveled his chair to face them. "Up till now, Phantom's actions could be part of an elaborate plan to gain your trust."

"If he really wanted information about the brotherhood, he would've gotten it by now," the Goth scowled. "Phantom could've followed me back to our headquarters when he first rescued me almost five months ago."

"Five months?" their techie let out a low whistle. "Time flies when you're awaiting destruction by Pariah's army."

"Phantom obviously hasn't changed his mind," Valerie shook her head, ignoring Tucker. "He would've revealed himself to you otherwise."

"It's just as well he hasn't tried contacting you," Tucker grimaced. "I don't want a ghost with a corporal form looking like that anywhere near you."

"I really don't see what your problem is," the ghost hunter commented dryly.

"Didn't anyone else see him?" their tech operative demanded. "He's hot. Phantom's a _hot ghost_."

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Sam teased, as Valerie barely suppressed a snort.

"That's not what I meant," Tucker scowled, not appreciating the jibe. "You _like_ him," he accused, gesturing violently as though the mere concept was an appalling crime. "You like a _ghost. _And that's why you're so inclined to trust him."

"Your imagination's running away again, Tucker," the ghost hunter shook her head in disbelief.

"Don't be ridiculous," Valerie agreed. "Phantom's a monster. Isn't he?" she questioned, rounding on Sam.

"Of course he is," Maddie's apprentice insisted. "But I'm not going to deny that he's a _useful_ monster. I still know that I can convince him to fight on our side."

"He's not interested," the techno geek maintained, exasperated. "I thought he made that clear enough. If you decide to go on another midnight stroll in an attempt to locate him again, I don't know how for much longer I'll be able to cover for you two. What if Lancer starts getting suspicious?"

"You're right," Sam conceded. "This isn't working. I'm going to have to find another way to convince Phantom to join our cause."

"I give up," Tucker declared, throwing his hands into the air. "You're unbelievable."

Maddie's apprentice stuck out her tongue in a childish gesture.

"Spar with me?" Valerie grinned, pushing herself to her feet as she headed towards the training room.

"Why not?" her partner shrugged, following suit. "It's been a while."

The ghost hunter studied her familiar surroundings as they exited Lancer's lab, unable to quell an uprising of affection for the old, slightly run down building housing their headquarters. The brotherhood had been her life from the moment Sam had been recruited five years ago, when she and Tucker had accidentally uncovered its existence through a careless moment on Damon Gray's part.

Maddie's apprentice still recalled how she fervently had begged their leader to consider enlisting her services, despite the fact that Valerie had already been training for several years prior to Sam's discovery of the resistance. Her apprenticeship had been grueling, but eventually Sam had managed to catch up with, and even surpass some of her peers. Now, five years on, the ghost hunter was probably capable of recounting every little crack on the cheap white tiles in the building she spent every possible waking moment in. There was no place that Sam would rather be. Then again, anything beat returning to Manson Estate after an exhausting night of patrol.

Sam had been compelled on several occasions to simply move out, but a strange sense of honour kept her anchored to the vast building that she had never considered her home, lest her parents ever require her protection. In a way, the ghost hunter was glad for the size of her house; Jeremy and Pamela Manson never realised if she was out after curfew. Her parents' behavior regarding the empire's occupation disgusted Sam. They were nothing more than docile, perfect citizens of the empire, who would pale at the mere thought of defying the ghosts. Her parents seemed to believe that if they kept their head down and stayed out of the empire's way, Pariah would reward them eventually. Sam snorted. As if that would ever happen.

The ghost hunter spent as little time as possible in her own home, choosing instead to bunk in her small room at the brotherhood headquarters. She preferred to be close to Maddie, should their leader ever require her services. Madeline Fenton was much more a mother to the ghost hunter than Pamela Manson could ever hope to be.

Valerie too spent most of her time at headquarters. Unlike Sam's parents, Damon Gray was outspoken in his hatred towards the empire, and seemed to fully endorse Valerie in her endeavors against their oppressors. Although Damon's right eye had been blinded in the field more than a decade ago, he continued to serve the brotherhood by training the majority of its new members. The ghost hunter kicked off her combat boots at the crash mattresses as she noted the presence of Maddie, Damon, and several other council members deep in discussion in the far corner of the vast room. Despite herself, Sam could never help feeling envious of Valerie's father's support.

At least Tucker understood her situation; his parents were unaware that he had long since joined the resistance. Sam doubted if they would disapprove, but her tech operative had chosen to keep his parents in the dark purely for their own safety. He was probably afraid that they would attempt to join the brotherhood after learning of its existence; the death rates were far too high for most to consider recruiting family members. Sam knew that her team mate would never forgive himself if he inadvertently endangered the lives of his parents. At least she would never have to worry about that with her family, Sam thought darkly.

"You two had better put up a good fight," Tucker commented dryly. "You've got an audience tonight."

"So we've noticed," Valerie replied, favouring her mentor with a deferential nod as Vlad, standing next to Maddie, caught her eye.

"Any idea what they're discussing?" Sam queried, taken aback by the expression of fatigue on their leader's face.

"Not a clue," their tech operative shrugged. "The council never tells us anything."

"Makes you worry what they actually have planned," Maddie's apprentice wondered out loud.

"Whatever it is, it's probably in the best interests of the brotherhood," Valerie assuaged firmly, dropping into a battle stance. "We have vowed to serve them as best as we can."

"You're right," Sam agreed, lowering her centre of gravity as she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet as she prepared to preempt her partner's attack. "It isn't our place to question their decisions."

_-_

"Are you certain that I cannot persuade you to push this month's meeting forward, Maddie?" Vlad Masters queried, handing her a steaming mug of coffee, which Maddie gratefully accepted. "Several matters urgently require the full council's attention."

"We must abide by tradition," their leader shook her head. "Council meetings have been held on the full moon for as long as the brotherhood has been in existence. Why waste a night that could be spent taking the offensive arguing over battle tactics? We cannot fight the ghosts at the height of their power."

"They've come a long way, haven't they?" the brotherhood's leader smiled, regarding the sparring girls with affection despite her fatigue as she raised the mug of hot coffee to her lips.

"It seems an eternity ago that we were in their position," Damon Gray commented. "I can hardly remember being Valerie's age."

"Our numbers have hardly grown since then," Lancer replied, frustration evident. "Despite the relatively low death rate, my sector is hopelessly short of inventors."

Vlad nodded grimly in accordance.

"I still say we go public," Maddie stated, weariness evident. "Rumours about our activities spread like wildfire among civilians. I'm sure that there are many willing to join our cause, they just need to learn how we can be contacted."

"I do not doubt your capabilities as a leader, but the rest of the council will never back your decision, no matter how hard we attempt to convince them otherwise," Damon shook his head.

"You've trained her well," Jack grinned at his wife, impressed as he observed the swift blows exchanged by the pair.

"Of course," the brotherhood's leader responded matter-of-factly. "I intend for Sam to succeed me."

"Forgive my insubordination, Maddie," Vlad chuckled dryly as they observed their apprentices' progress in the sparring ring. "But naturally I believe my own student to be better suited to the role."

"And the fact that Valerie Gray's primary loyalties lie with you has absolutely nothing to do with the matter," Lancer interjected, expression wry. "Electing your apprentice to lead effectively places yourself at the head of the brotherhood."

"Could you say any differently for Samantha Manson?" the billionaire challenged. "She is like a daughter to Maddie."

"I know Sam can be trusted to uphold the core principles of the brotherhood," Maddie's amethyst eyes narrowed. "I have ascertained that my apprentice is aware that destruction of all ghosts has always been our primary objective. Sam knows better than most that no ghost is worthy of trust."

"I am not belittling your apprentice's abilities, Vlad," Lancer clarified, "The girl is exceptional in every sense of the word. But I cannot help but notice that she looks to no one but you for guidance. If the girl requires your constant reassurance in order to function effectively as a ghost hunter, will she be capable of independent thought if we are killed?"

"Valerie is young," Damon Gray interjected softly. "She and Sam still have a long way to go before we can realistically conclude which of the two is better suited to the task. The matter of leadership remains something we need not consider for at least another decade."

"At the rate the empire is progressing, we might not survive another decade," Maddie stated flatly. "I refuse to die ignorant of the identity of my successor."

"It is a shame your daughter has no interest in becoming the next leader," Vlad hook his head. "Last I heard, she wishes to become part of the council."

"Maybe in a couple of years," Jack chuckled softly. "She's still too young to play a part in the decisions we are forced to make."

"She is the equal of any of the veterans in the council," the brotherhood's leader intoned. "What Jazz lacks in tactical experience she makes up for with intelligence."

"This is a war," Lancer agreed reluctantly. "If my former apprentice has expressed interest in joining the council, I say we let her. Why wait to put her brilliant mind to use?"

Maddie's grip tightened, her nails digging painfully into the tender flesh of her palm as she observed the abrupt stiffening of her husband's jaw, coupled with the slight dimming of his gaze that even Maddie wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been so intimately familiar with the subtle changes in Jack's mood.

He had already lost one child, and Maddie knew that it would tear her husband apart to lose the only one they had left. Jazz meant the world to Jack, to both of them. To lose her too would be unthinkable. Despite everything that their daughter had been through, Maddie knew that her husband was desperate for Jazz to salvage any remaining shreds of innocence she still possessed. Jack wanted their daughter to have nothing to do with the choices that would send countless men and women of the brotherhood to their deaths. At least, not yet. Not while it was still their burden to bear.

_Forgive me,_ Jack, she pleaded silently, perhaps just as much as for her sake as for that of her husband's. She and Jack hardly spoke of the incident that had occurred almost twenty years ago, but Maddie knew that he blamed her, no matter how much Jack tried to convince her otherwise. She had been willing to serve the brotherhood, perhaps even to the point of madness as she attempted mission after mission despite her pregnancy. For her unforgivable stupidity, Daniel had paid with his life.

Yet, Maddie's failure to protect their son resulted in the brotherhood proclaiming her a war hero, winning her the unconditional respect that eventually resulted in her gaining the position that she held today, twenty years after her possession, while Jack, sweet, loyal, forgiving Jack, still stood by her, no matter how poorly she deserved him.

Suddenly, the steaming mug of hot coffee seemed far less inviting.

-

"Back for more, Fright Knight?" Phantom smirked, as the ghost general stepped out of the shadows to join him. "I was under the impression that our previous encounter was sufficiently humiliating to deter your return."

"Phantom," the midian acknowledged, revulsion evident in his tone. "I see your impudence has not left you. The only reason I am forced to endure your company is because I am here on Pariah's orders. I bear a message from the king."

"The great Fright Knight, reduced to a messenger boy," Phantom taunted, raising a white eyebrow in amusement. "How the mighty have fallen."

The half ghost was unaffected by the midian's roar of outrage, his eyes flaring a deathly purple as spectral energy flared at his fists. From their previous encounter, it was clear which of them was the superior fighter. Despite Phantom's offhanded insult, the white haired ghost knew that the Fright Knight would be reluctant to cross him. For now.

One of the reasons that Phantom had so easily felled the ghost general in their previous engagement was due to his immunity to the control the lunar cycle extended over the strength of his kin. The Fright Knight had believed his opponent to share his weaknesses when they had dueled, causing him to now overestimate Phantom's strength. The youthful ghost was certain that he would still be able to defeat the general at the height of his power, but not without sufficient difficulty. It was in his best interests to allow the Fright Knight to remained disillusioned.

"Whatever the ghost king proffers, tell him I am not interested," Phantom stated flatly, ignoring the general as he turned to leave.

"It will do you well to listen, cretin," the Fright Knight spat, obviously embittered by the message he was charged to carry. "My lord offers you amnesty in exchange for your services."

"If Pariah believes that I will serve him, after he has sanctioned two attempts on my life, then he is a fool," the white haired ghost snorted, the soft sound resounding in the silence of the cold night air. "I will yield to none of his subordinates. Your king has no control over me, short of his choosing to leave the ghost zone to challenge me himself."

"Nothing is beyond my lord's control," the midian growled, as deep purple flames erupted from his fingertips, barring Phantom's path. "You may have proven yourself incapable of being destroyed by my hand, but can the same be said for your little wench?"

Phantom stiffened, willing his facade not to give away the slightest semblance of emotion as he turned to face the general. "I know not what you speak of."

"Liar," the Fright Knight hissed. "The king is aware that you are harbouring a second traitor to the empire. Perhaps the Night Police cannot overpower you, but have you considered the consequences of your actions on your acquaintance?"

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about," the white haired ghost insisted roughly, as he found himself overcome by chilling fear. Until tonight, both he and Ember had been under the impression that the empire believed her to be dead, allowing her slightly more liberty regarding her movements. Had their recklessness resulted in the Fright Knight discovering the truth?

"You may be unmoved by my liege's offer of amnesty, but it would be a farce on my part for Ember Mclain to be sought, and slain," the midian smirked, well aware that his previous statement had unnerved his rival, despite his reluctance for Phantom to enter Pariah's employ. "Accept, and we will extend the offer of amnesty to include her."

"You are bluffing," needles of ice seemed to have gripped Phantom's stomach, despite his attempts to retain an air of cold indifference towards the Fright Knight. "If you truly knew where Ember resided, she would not still be alive, twenty years after her betrayal."

"You gravely underestimate the capabilities of my trackers," the ghost general shook his head, clearly taking sadistic enjoyment from the white haired ghost's plight. "I understand it will be be difficult for you to find a replacement, seeing as to most women of our kin will be reluctant to warm the bed of a traitor."

"You are just as much a fool as Pariah if you believe Ember to be defenseless," Phantom's eyes flared an ungodly shade of green, refusing to rise to the bait of the Fright Knight's derogatory comments regarding his best friend. "Now leave. You are not welcome in my territory."

"You think all those affiliated with you impervious to our elite?" the Fright Knight barked a laugh, making no move to comply with Phantom's demands. "Allow me to prove you wrong."

"Harm Ember, and you will regret the day you chose to abandon your humanity," the white haired ghost threatened, his hackles rising.

"Why are you so reluctant to serve at Pariah Dark's side?" the ghost general snarled, overcome by unexplainable anger. "He is granting you an opportunity that _heathen_ like you does not deserve."

Phantom paused, aggressive tendencies leaving him as he dispassionately regarded the rage flaring in the Fright Knight's gaze, surprise overcoming him. The ghost general was jealous. Whatever Pariah was offering him in return for his services, the Fright Knight coveted greatly. That lone fact in itself piqued the white haired ghost's interest.

"And how exactly would I be serving the king?" the outcast arched an eyebrow, curious despite himself. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to listen to what Pariah Dark had to offer.

"At the head of his forces," the Fright Knight whispered, his baritone voice so soft that Phantom hardly caught the words, despite his heightened senses.

"Pariah wishes for me to serve him as his general?" Phantom questioned, not bothering to hide his incredulity. "And where does that leave you?"

"As your liegeman," the midian replied stiffly, as though uttering the mere words was torture. "Pariah has charged me to serve you as you see fit, seeing as I have fallen from grace in his eyes."

"I had no idea that the ghost king was this trusting," the slighter ghost commented dryly. "I would've thought that enlisting the services of a blood traitor to lead his armies would be beyond him."

"I have warned him that you are not to be trusted," the Fright Knight's deep voice held nothing but bitterness. "But the king is eager to make use of your abilities, certain that he will be capable of compelling you to remain loyal to us. If you betray the empire, my lord will not hesitate to strike you down, no matter how powerful you think you are."

"And if I give my word, the empire vows never to lay a finger on Ember Mclain?" Phantom questioned sharply, his eyes narrowing to burnished green slits. "Our previous truce has left me with little faith in Pariah's ability to keep his promises."

"The ghost king gives his word," the former general conceded reluctantly, after a period of augmented hesitation on his part.

"Very well," Phantom conceded grimly, as his fingers furled into twin fists, fervently hoping that Sam would understand when she inevitably learned of his fresh affiliations. "Tell your liege that I accept."

**Author's Notes:** Dun dun dun! And the plot once again thickens. I do apologise for the lack of updates, but I've been incredibly busy at school. I have, however, now set up an LJ account in which I post spoilers of my fics, most notably **Anathema's Abode**, just because I hate keeping something to myself after I've written it. There's a link from my profile. Please do not hesitate to friend me!

For those of you interested, **Metanoia** too should be updated shortly.

**Many thanks to: **_Queen Coke, Grumbles, Manyara, Writer's-BlockDP, CharmedNightSkye, Zilleniose, weirdIT, Xweetok, kia, RubyMoonlight, b4k4 ch4n, Acoustic Maiden, Sweeteen19, Raidon Phantom, Musicallity, WinchesterPhantom, Nobody Famous, Angelic Kittens, yuuki, FreakLevel27, Reviwer, Blue Beluga, pwykersotz, Shuricel, Ethereal Fae, passionateartist, FunkyFish1991, Secret Spy Guy, danny-fan-101, december'smorose, Black January, Emerald Calling, bloodmoon13, Sasia93, PhantomsAngelS2, Tie-dyed Trickster _and _quantus prime _for their amazing reviews. I'm sorry again for the gap between updates.

Also, be sure to check out the **DP Fanfic Awards**, organised by _Chaos Dragon_. The link can be found from my profile. Thanks must also be extended to the kind person who nominated **Anathema's Abode**, if you could please tell me who you are!

Finally, please review. They make me happy, and I'm encouraged to update faster when I know that people are reading the strange ideas that I manage to come up with:)

**Hugs and Kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	10. Foreboding

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 9**

**Foreboding**

The night had been relatively uneventful, sans the sparring session between Sam and her partner that had lasted several hours, as the ghost hunter made her way back home. The enemy had been abnormally quiet, unusual for the current stage in the lunar cycle. Even Maddie had been forced to admit that their actions made no sense, unless the ghost king was taking the time to re-organise his forces. The spectre's silence was most likely the calm before the storm, although Sam could hardly see how the Night Police could be made to be even more ruthless or efficient than they already were.

Despite the welcome familiarity of their presence, Sam could not quell the discomfort that had occurred when several members of the council had sat in to observe her and Valerie's progress, unable to suppress the feeling that her worth was being weighed in their eyes without her knowledge.

_Is that all we are to the council? Pawns?_ Sam questioned, immediately appalled as the mere concept crossed her mind.

The ghost hunter scowled, violently squashing the stray thought. Despite herself, she could not ignore the fact that her previous doubts reminded her of something that Phantom would say. The ghost hunter bit her bottom lip, surprised as she found herself overcome by a overwhelming desire to see Phantom.

It was strange, although not entirely unpleasant, that Maddie's protégé had found someone with which she could freely divulge her opinions. Regardless of his rebuttal, the white haired ghost seemed to genuinely appreciate her independence of thought. And although imagining it was a bit of a stretch, judging their last meeting, Sam could almost believe that her enjoyment of his company was reciprocated by the midian.

Albeit Phantom's refusal to join the brotherhood's cause, Sam was glad that she and the white haired ghost had reached a comfortable truce of sorts, leading to the question if were there others like Phantom out there. After all, Walker's ghost prison was reputed to house more than just mere mortals. If that were to be the case, the brotherhood might finally have a fighting chance against the empire if spectral recruitment were to be made possible-

The ghost hunter started, stopping short in her tracks. Sam felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, unable to suppress the sudden, irrational fear that she was being followed. No matter how much she wished it to be the case, there was no way that her assailant was Phantom; the white haired ghost would have made his presence clear to her immediately. Which left Sam with absolutely no idea about what she was dealing with.

The ghost hunter rounded the corner of the street, heading in the opposite direction to which she had initially intended, her breath hitching in her throat. Despite the violent disagreements that she and her parents suffered, Sam would be sooner be damned before she led her attacker to her home. Maddie's apprentice picked up the pace, placing a hand on the rucksack inside which her Fenton Thermos was hidden to reassure herself.

"Samantha Manson of the brotherhood?" a feminine voice inquired, in a whisper so soft that if the ghost hunter's senses had not been previously heightened by paranoia, she probably would've missed the stranger's utterance altogether.

"Show yourself," Maddie's apprentice spun to face the voice's source, as she found her insides gripped with chilling fear.

"Relax," the female ghost conceded, azure flames momentarily encircling her form as she faded into vision. "I mean you no harm. He was right," Ember chuckled dryly. "You _are_ fiesty."

"Who are you?" the ghost hunter demanded roughly as adrenaline surged through her body, activating her ghost gauntlets. "What do you want with me?" The silver bracelets extended to cover her fists, familiar artificial energy blazing at her fingertips.

"Who I am is unimportant," the ghost shrugged. "Phantom sent me to find you."

"Phantom?" Sam echoed, taken aback.

_"Phantom,"_ the flame haired ghost ascertained, her expression wry. "I take it you remember him?"

"He's pretty much impossible to forget," Sam retorted, shifting her weight off the balls of her feet as she allowed herself to relax her stance. "How do you know him?" the ghost hunter questioned, still wary.

She had been under the impression that the white haired ghost had wanted nothing more to do with her or the brotherhood, having failed to contact her for three months. The midian's rejection of her proposition of an allegiance had seemed absolute. Had Phantom changed his mind? The ghost hunter's breath hitched in her throat. If he had, what had prompted him to do so, and why had he chosen to contact her through the strange female before her instead of seeking her out himself?

Despite the irrelevance of her assailant's appearance, Sam could not help but notice how her cerulean tresses seemed to be aflame, framing her face seemingly with a life of their own. The woman's attire was equally memorable, her startling green eyes accentuated with an heavy application of thick black eyeliner. Whoever this woman was, the ghost hunter had to grudgingly admit that she had style. If not for the fact that the blue haired woman was a ghost, and by default the enemy, Sam would've been sorely tempted to ask her where she had acquired her jeans.

"That really isn't any of your business," Phantom's acquaintance arched an eyebrow. "He says to take your loved ones and get the hell out of Amity Park," the female ghost informed, her expression hardening. "This town isn't safe for members of the brotherhood, and the situation's about to get even worse. It's best you leave while you still can."

"Leave town?" the ghost hunter repeated, stunned. "Phantom wants the brotherhood to abandon our home?"

"There's nothing more you can do for Amity," Ember shook her head, her expression softening. "Its fate has already been decided."

"Why didn't Phantom tell me this in person?" Sam's eyes narrowed in distrust. "I've been out on patrol practically every night for the past three months and he's made no move to contact me."

"He would," the cerulean haired ghost replied, biting her bottom lip as guilt flashed fleetingly across her face. "But he's been otherwise occupied lately."

"Otherwise occupied?" the ghost hunter repeated, incredulous. "He spends his days hiding like a coward from the empire. Would it have been so difficult for him to spare five minutes out of his _busy schedule_ to tell me this face to face?"

"It's more complicated than that," the female ghost sighed, her features betraying her weariness. "But Phantom's made me swear not to tell you. Please, just take his advice and leave Amity Park. It doesn't matter where you go, so as long as it's out of the empire's reach."

"What's going to happen?" Sam questioned, pursuing the subject. "Has Phantom managed to find out what Pariah has planned?"

"I guess you could say that," Ember replied, bitterness evident. "When you next see him, promise me that you'll go easy on him. He never intended for any of this to happen."

"Any of what to happen?" the ghost hunter queried, her confusion rapidly replaced by ire as the flame haired ghost merely shook her head, refusing to answer. "Why should I believe you?" the ghost hunter challenged. "You're one of _them_."

"You doubt my integrity because I'm a_ ghost_?" the blue haired woman repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's just typical. And to think Phantom was under the impression that the brotherhood hadn't completely gotten to you."

"How am I meant to trust him?" Sam scowled. "He's already lied to me. Phantom claimed that he didn't have a clan. Your presence here proves otherwise."

"He hasn't deceived you," the blue haired ghost shrugged, hooking her thumb into the pocket of her ridiculously low black jeans. "Because we _have_ no clan."

"_We?"_ Sam repeated softly, taken aback as the sudden realisation dawned. It seemed that Phantom wasn't nearly as alone as she had initially thought. Of course, it had been stupid to assume that the white haired ghost spent the vast majority of his existence in solitude.

Maddie's apprentice allowed herself a sharp intake of breath as she processed the newly acquired information, unable to suppress disquiet and an unexpected sense of loss at her previous assumptions. What had she been hoping for, that he'd be willing to ally himself to the brotherhood in exchange for human companionship? A ghost like Phantom was hardly likely to be lacking in company. Six hundred years was ample time to acquire all manner of acquaintances. With hindsight, the very notion was absurd.

From the looks of things, thiswas the midian's little girlfriend. Suddenly, the female spectre's motives were disgustingly clear. There _was_ no danger. In all likelihood, Phantom hadn't even sent the woman to deliver the message to her; she had sought Sam out on her own vocation to ensure that Phantom remained hers. Who would've thought that ghosts could be so _petty_?

"Look," the ghost hunter began, fingers curling into twin fists as she felt her unbridled rage bubble dangerously close to the surface."Phantom hasn't come looking for me in over three months. Why are you so desperate to get rid of me?"

"What are you talking about?" Ember questioned, subjecting her to an odd look, bemused by Maddie's apprentice's sudden aggression towards her.

"I'm not interested in a _ghost_," Sam snapped. "If you want him, you can have him."

"I already have," the female ghost replied, bewilderment evident. "But that was a long time ago. What's dipstick been telling you?" she shook her head in annoyance, as if to clear it. "Anyway," she scowled. "All this is beside the point. Phantom obviously cares about you if he's sent me to warn you to save your kin. What woul_d_ I have to do to convince you that I'm telling the truth?"

"Just get lost," the ghost hunter snarled, as she began heading back the way she had come, momentarily forgetting in her anger that turning her back on any ghost was a very bad idea. "Stop wasting my time."

"_No,"_ Ember hissed as she materialised in front of Sam, barring her path. The ghost hunter dispassionately regarded her, refusing to flinch even as the flames of her cerulean tresses surged around them, displaying the female ghost's fury. "I'm not leaving until you take me seriously. I refuse to be the one that to tell him that you're dead because you're too damned stubborn to listen. Please, you have to inform your superiors."

The concern etched on the female ghost's facade seemed so genuine that for a single, transient moment, Maddie's apprentice could almost believe her.

"Sorry," Sam retorted coldly. "But you've given me no reason to trust you."

"There isn't time for you to find a reason to," the azure haired spectre stressed, exasperation lacing the urgency of her tone. "You have to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Give it up, I'm not leaving this town. And I have a message for Phantom," the ghost hunter growled, pushing roughly past Ember as she made her way to the end of the back street. "Tell him to keep his jealous girlfriends under control."

-

"Good evening, Valerie," Vlad Masters greeted, his gaze flickering momentarily to meet hers before turning his attention back to the screen of his computer.

"Evening. I've brought you something," his apprentice replied, gesturing to the tea tray she held.

"I'm compiling a list of the Fright Knight's most recent sightings," the older ghost hunter informed. "Surprisingly enough, the general hasn't exactly been active for the past fortnight. In fact, he hasn't exited the ghost zone at all barring a single night last week."

"Do you know what has prompted the change?" Valerie Gray's brow furrowed.

"I don't know," Vlad admitted. "My suspicions have yet to prove conclusive. Either the Fright Knight has learned to evade our trackers completely, or Pariah has finally had him replaced. Neither option is particularly welcome."

"You wanted a word?" Valerie queried, as she set the beverage down in front of him.

"Ah, my tea," Vlad Masters stated appreciatively. "Yes," the council member stated. "I believe it is time for us to begin concerning strategies to ascertain that you are elected at the head of the brotherhood."

"Already?" his apprentice questioned, raising her eyebrows in startled surprise.

"I understand that you hold Samantha Manson in deep affection as one of your closest friends," Vlad grunted, as he absently strained his tea. "Nevertheless, her aptitude for ghost hunting is an obstacle that we have to overcome."

"But would it be so bad if Sam were to be the next leader?" Valerie questioned. "She's smart, efficient, and reliable. There's no one that I'd rather be working with. If not for her actions when we were ambushed five months ago, I'd most probably be dead."

"Samantha is too easily prone to independent thought," her mentor commented. "Under her leadership, our traditions will undoubtedly be severely compromised, and I am dubious if many of our brethren will be receptive to the change. If she were to be usurped, it would spell the end of the resistance."

"But what if the changes Sam brings could help us finally win the war?" Valerie argued. "Our age old traditions haven't exactly worked so far."

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Vlad queried, his interest piqued. Was his apprentice's rival already making her intentions to lead clear?

"It's nothing," his apprentice flushed.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," Vlad replied smoothly, unruffled by Valerie's refusal to divulge whatever it was that she knew. His apprentice would inform him in due time, despite obviously being sworn to secrecy by her best friend. Vlad had ascertained years ago that Valerie Gray's primary loyalties lay with him, and him alone. "In order to ascertain leadership, we have to create the illusion of you being the council's obedient puppet. Of course, once elected, you are free to do whatever you will. But until then, it does not pay to cross them."

"So I'm going to have to create an elaborate lie in order to get them to trust me?" Valerie raised an eyebrow.

"I don't expect you to create an elaborate lie," Vlad smirked. "I expect you to _become_ it."

"But how about Maddie Fenton?" she questioned. "She and half the council are in constant disagreement. Never before has there been such a segregation of views in the history of the brotherhood."

"Maddie is exceptional," her mentor replied firmly. "There is no one more deserving to lead our brethren."

"Not even _you?"_ the younger ghost hunter's lips quirked into a teasing grin.

"Not even I," Vlad affirmed. "I doubt if I would've been able to survive the possession she was subjected to."

"I don't," his apprentice replied, as she unceremoniously deposited herself onto his lap.

"_Valerie,"_ Vlad chided, not even bothering to look up from his work as he subjected his apprentice to a halfhearted warning. "We've discussed this. Now kindly get off my lap."

"No," the female ghost hunter replied simply.

The billionaire subjected his apprentice to a significant look, pointedly clearing his throat as she shifted slightly in his lap.

Although Vlad prided himself on his faultless ability to maintain his composure even in the midst of the most impossible situations, god alone knew how progressively difficult the billionaire was finding it to maintain eye contact with Damon Gray during their conversations, whilst harbouring the knowledge that his fellow council member would in all probability brutally maim him should he ever learn that Vlad was taking his daughter to bed on a increasingly regular basis.

"You do realise how awkward you're making communications between myself and your father?" he voiced, quirking an elegant eyebrow. "Do you think he suspects?"

"I wasn't aware that you had a conscience," his apprentice teased, running her fingers through her mentor's silver ponytail. "No," Valerie blushed, as she considered their current situation. "I don't think Dad's even capable of considering the concept."

"I don't blame him," Vlad withdrew, gently shoving his apprentice onto her feet. "This is lunacy. I am old enough to be your father."

_I am, in fact, a year older than your father, _the billionaire added silently to himself.

"Why does it matter?" Valerie maintained, as hurt flashed fleetingly across her features. "We're both adults. This is a relationship between two ghost hunters."

"A relationship that will never be sanctioned by the council," the billionaire pointed out. "This could severely jeopardise your standing in the council's eyes when they assess your suitability for leadership."

"And what if I don't care?" his apprentice challenged. "I really don't think the council can complain. After all, it's your funding that's keeping us afloat," Valerie continued, gracing him with a coquettish smile. "I think you're entitled to a few royalties."

"And you accuse me of lacking a conscience," Vlad replied sardonically, an approving smirk crossing his features as he allowed his amusement at her response to show. "You'll soon become even more ruthless than I am."

"That was the initial plan, wasn't it?" Valerie retorted, turning to leave. "I told Dad that I'll be training late, so I'm not expected home tonight," she murmured, pausing by the door frame, uncertainty evident.

Vlad shook his head in amusement, a faint flicker of hesitation crossing his features before extending the invitation he knew that his apprentice was dying to hear. "Don't think this means that you get to slack off."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Valerie replied, and the billionaire could have laughed out loud as a wide, almost uncharacteristically goofy grin seemed to spread across her features at his response.

"Good," her mentor replied, the finality in his tone signaling the end of their conversation. "Now leave me in peace to complete this in time for our next council meeting."

-

The man in the corner of the poetry café had been studying her for minutes now, much to the ghost hunter's displeasure, his presence ruining her previous quiet contentment in the peacefulness of her gloomy surroundings. Sam brought her herbal tea to her lips, the sweetness of its aroma ruined as she struggled to disregard the stranger's presence and concentrate on the poem that was being shared.

It was obvious that the man was affiliated with the enemy. It was hardly difficult to notice, even with the untrained eye, that something was very off about him, from the way he moved, or even how he stood with his back against the wall. Everything about him seemed to scream that he had been branded by the empire.

As far as Sam was concerned, it was a pointless exercise on his part. Especially since both of them were aware that she knew that she was being watched. The blood traitor had no reason to suspect her affiliation with the brotherhood. After all, hatred for the ghost king's eyes and ears was not confined merely to members of the resistance; civilians were just as wary of blood traitors as she was. And if the situation were to turn ugly, Maddie's apprentice thought ruthlessly, he was only human.

"May I join you?" the newcomer questioned, acknowledging her presence with a slight nod of his head.

Sam ignored him, training her vision past the hooded figure, pointedly fixating her gaze on the poet upon the dimly lit stage.

The man seemed to have taken her stony silence for accordance, drawing up a seat as he settled himself opposite to her. "I was hoping that we could converse somewhere slightly more private."

"I have no business with you, blood traitor," the ghost hunter stated coldly, acquiescing his presence for the first time as she subjected the man to a glare of glacial standards despite the fact that the dark cowl of his hood concealed his features from Sam's gaze. "Whatever you want from me, I can assure you that you're not going to get it."

"My only objective is to deliver a message," he replied, his tone wry. "The same one that you rejected earlier today."

The ghost hunter started, as she turned to regard the cloaked figure fully for the first time. So her initial assumption of his affiliation with ghosts was correct. He was younger than she had initially anticipated, perhaps a couple of years older than she was, but Sam could instantly recognise from experience that the manner in which he carried himself was that of a seasoned fighter. What would a blood traitor, part of Pariah Dark's surveillance network, have to do with Phantom?

She sought to memorise his features, a task made difficult by the fact that half of his face was obscured by shadows in the dim lighting of the poetry café. Clearly, Phantom was ignorant of the true meaning of solitude. How many more of his acquaintances would she be forced to endure?

"Phantom failed to mention that he had a following," Sam ground out, refusing to admit that the stranger had succeeded in capturing her full attention.

"A following?" the man replied, seemingly amused as the corners of his lips quirked upwards. "Hardly. I am merely a friend."

"A friend?" Sam echoed, skeptical. "Phantom has _human_ friends?"

"This is not the place to speak of such matters," Phantom's acquaintance rose, gesturing for Sam to follow as he lead exited the gloomy building. "No matter how you perceived it, the previous messenger had your best interests at heart. She risked capture to forewarn you," his expression sobered. "Your death would sadden Phantom greatly. Believe me when I tell you that he is going to great lengths to secure your safety."

"Lengths so great that he's twice failed warn me about this apparent threat himself," the ghost hunter snorted derisively as she attempted to disguise her unease, berating herself for allowing her curiosity to comply with accompanying the man out of the safety of the café. If the situation was to turn ugly, the advantage would lie with her opponent.

"Believe me, if there was any way that he could be here right now, he would be," Phantom's acquaintance informed, his bitter tone striking a chord of familiarity deep within her.

"Is he in trouble with the empire?" Sam questioned, struggling discern the hooded man's facade beneath its mask of shadows. Come to think of it, the stranger's self-righteous arrogance, combined with painfully familiar manner in which the his lips had curved upwards earlier had been vaguely reminiscent of...

Except that there was no way that this was possible. If the individual before her truly _was_ Phantom, her equipment would have long alerted to his spectral signature.

Not unless he had chosen to overshadow the man before her. The ghost hunter inwardly shuddered, as she considered the distasteful alternative. Somehow, she would've thought that Phantom would be above the vile act. Perhaps this was why the human had chosen to don a hood. Victims of possession often bore the green eyes of their suppressors, the colour of pure ectoplasm.

If so, what had prompted Phantom to resort to such measures in order to ensure that she obeyed his warnings? As far as Sam knew, the white haired ghost was more than capable of eluding the Night Police. They had never had any previous trouble communicating, apart from Phantom's refusal to appear before other members of the brotherhood. Regardless of the outlaw's the outlaw willful evasion of Valerie when she and her partner were on patrol, there had been ample opportunity for him to contact her over the past months. Sam's eyes narrowed, steeling herself with icy resolve. She had been denied answers for long enough.

"No more than usual," the man shrugged, stopping to lean against the weathered alleyway wall. "In fact, he hasn't been this safe in a long while."

"That great for him," Maddie's apprentice replied absently, mentally rehearsing her next move. The ghost hunter knew that at best, she was only going to get one shot at this. From what she could observe of Phantom's acquaintance's build beneath his cloak, he would more than able to resist her if she didn't have the element of surprise on her side. Physical confrontation had to be avoided unless absolutely necessary.

"Heed Phantom's advice," the stranger implored. "You have to inform Madeleine Fenton about the delicacy of the brotherhood's situation."

"I will," Sam asserted. "But on one condition."

"Name it," Phantom's acquaintance affirmed, relief evident at having finally gotten through to her as he allowed his tall form to relax.

That was when Sam seized her chance. The ghost hunter was upon him in a second, ripping the cowl from his head in a single fluid motion before the man was granted an opportunity to retaliate. Icy blue eyes stared back at her in alarm, as he hastily backed away from her.

The ghost hunter bit her lower lip, as she found herself overcome by a bout of severe disappointment. What had she expected? That Phantom would be under the cowl?

Now that she had unsettled Phantom's messenger, she would be even more hard pressed to attempt to extract information from him. Sam berated herself for giving in to her whimsical impulses, as a far more worrying concept was brought to her mind. Phantom's messenger had flinched at her mere touch, his alabaster skin and the wild disarray of his raven hair suggesting ill health What had the man before her been subjected to in his lifetime, to cause him to be so wary of human contact?

"What has Phantom done to you?" she whispered, her voice dangerously low.

"He hasn't done anything to me," the human adverted his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Phantom was overshadowing you, wasn't he?" Sam demanded. "That's why you acted so much like him. I've seen firsthand the lasting effects of possession," lavender eyes narrowed in anger. "Why do you allow him to subject you to such violation? _Answer me_," the ghost hunter growled, as her outrage was met with impassive silence.

"Our relationship is a complicated one," the man replied sardonically, obviously embittered. "Neither of us can survive without the other. Now that I've divulged that little tidbit of information, promise me you'll abandon Amity Park."

"But- how?" the ghost hunter questioned, confusion evident as she struggled to process the umpteenth revelation of the day.

"That," the blue eyed man stated flatly. "Is no concern of yours."

"Phantom's abusing you," she replied, bristling with outrage. "I'm _making_ it my concern."

"I never said that he was," the stranger replied, exasperation flickering across his features in a startlingly familiar manner. If Sam hadn't previously ascertained that he wasn't being overshadowed, the ghost hunter would've been prepared to swear that Phantom himself was standing before her.

Maddie's apprentice opened her mouth to speak before deciding against it, biting back the retort on her tip of her tongue. It was clear that she was going to be incapable of extracting any further information from Phantom's lackey regarding his own situation. "Do you know where he is?" she asked instead. "Why can't Phantom tell me any of this himself?"

"You never run out of questions, do you?" the blood traitor chuckled dryly, pointedly ignoring her queries, much to Sam's immense frustration. "Good night Sam," he bade, offering her a thin smile as he pushed past the bewildered ghost hunter, his footsteps soon drowned out by the liverish silence of the night.

**Author's Notes:** A nice, quiet chapter before the storm. I'm sorry about how long it has taken me to update. It's not that I haven't wanted to, but I've been completely swamped with schoolwork. I feel really bad about not updating for absolute ages, especially since the next few chapters are the fun parts:D Hopefully, I'll get some spoilers done tonight so that they can go up on my LJ.

**Many thanks to: **_Grumbles, kia, b4k4 ch4n, passionateartist, Sasia93, Mimo-Sene, Manyara, Brightshadow 5, Chaos Dragon, XME, WinchesterPhantom, Musicality, Angelic Kittens, danny-fan101, Emerald Calling, Toyoko, Kirimori, timydamonkey, Xweetok, Black January, Raidon Phantom, CharmedNightSkye, Sweeteen19, wondergirl101, CommonSenseless24, bloodmoon13, Arabic Blessing, FreakLevel27, Tie-dyed Trickster, pearl84_ and _FunkyFish1991_ for their awesome reviews!

As usual, please review. They make me happy:D

**Hugs and Kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	11. Betrayal

For the anti-writer's block:P

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter Ten**

**Betrayal**

Sam groaned, leaning her forehead against the wall outside Maddie's bureau, inhaling the familiar scent of the cheap, powdery whitewash as she deliberated for the umpteenth time if informing her mentor of the apparently imminent spectral threat would be a wise decision on her part.

Phantom certainly never made it easy for her. The ghost hunter scowled; the memory of the azure haired woman still left Sam with a bitter taste in her mouth. Both of his acquaintances had seemed so determined for her to accept his message. Yet, if the white haired ghost was so certain of the impending threat to the brotherhood, why hadn't he chosen to warn her himself? Violet eyes narrowed, appalled as she recalled the second bearer of Phantom's words of caution. If the way in which his servant was abused was any indication to go by, Phantom knew a lot less about humans than he cared to think.

Having come to a decision, Sam raised a pale fist to the door and rapping sharply on the old wood. She would tell their leader everything. Maddie deserved to be relayed Phantom's message, doubtless of its integrity. Even if the warning proved false, it was far better for her brethren to ready themselves than to be ill prepared. And if the warning proved true... Sam shuddered to imagine the consequences.

Her resolve withered the moment the Goth laid eyes on the severity of her mentor's gaze.

"Sam," her mentor acknowledged, stepping aside to allow her to enter. "I'm glad that you've decided to seek me out. We have a fairly urgent matter to discuss."

"What is it?" Sam queried, schooling her features to a blank as she fought the shaming urge to run. So it seemed that she had underestimated Maddie. Her mentor was already aware exactly what she had been up to over the past six months.

How long had their leader known? The ghost hunter would've thought that Maddie's trust in her was sufficient to be above assigning spies to keep tabs on her. However, her mentor's knowledge of her insubordination proved otherwise._ And with good reason_, Sam added bitterly. Ever since the ghost hunter had encountered Phantom, she had repeatedly betrayed Maddie's trust in order to coerce him into joining their cause, defying their leader's direct orders.

"I intend for you to succeed me," her mentor informed shortly. "I think it's time that we begin taking measures to ensure that you are not denied leadership."

"A-already?" Sam stuttered, blinking stupidly as she sought to regain her composure. "That was unexpected."

"Maybe," Maddie agreed. "But it seems that we have no choice, having been directly challenged. Vlad has also made his intentions for Valerie to lead clear," her mentor added. "He wishes for her to succeed where he has failed."

"Val didn't mention any of this," Sam frowned, taken aback. She could not deny that her partner's sudden secrecy stung. The ghost hunter and her team mates usually shared everything with each other.

"Do not hold it against Valerie. She was probably instructed not to," Maddie replied. "In order to maximise our chances against Vlad, it's best that you don't discuss this matter with her, either."

"Isn't this a little premature to be thinking about leadership?" the ghost hunter queried. "With your abilities, you could be around a long time."

"Perhaps," their leader shrugged, conceding her apprentice's point. "Who knows what those demons did to me. But this is a war," she continued, her expression hardening. "In the event of my death, I need to know that I've left my brethren in good hands. You need to establish yourself as the council's favourite long before that time comes."

"And what's so wrong with the council favouring Valerie?" Sam challenged, failing to see the logic of her mentor's argument. "What if she's better suited to the task?"

"There is no denying that Valerie is an equally strong candidate," Maddie agreed wholeheartedly. "Vlad's trained her well."

"Then why should it matter which one of us leads?" Sam questioned. "Valerie would make just as good a leader as I would, maybe better. She's more experienced than I am, at any rate."

"A decade down the line, and the few years of experience that she has on you will mean nothing," the brotherhood's leader assured Sam. "Besides," she raised a finger to brush Sam's cheek, her eyes twinkling. "You've had the best training possible."

"I have," Maddie's apprentice grinned.

"It is clear that Valerie thinks the world of Vlad," Maddie asserted. "Her loyalty towards him has never wavered. The man never fails to be charismatic when he chooses to be. From what I've seen, your partner will never hesitate to do anything he asks of her. However, I am not alone when I say that I find his methods questionable."

"How so?" Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by their leader's newly divulged view of her and her husband's closest confidant and ally.

"You misinterpret what I'm saying," Maddie allowed the corners of her lips to curve upwards. "Please do not think badly of Vlad. While I would gladly trust him with my life, needless to say your best friend's mentor did not become one of the richest men on the planet- despite the war- with blunt wit and his heart on his sleeve."

"You've beat him to leadership once, I'm sure you'll manage it again," her apprentice demurred, still swamped by Maddie's abrupt revelation that she intended for Sam to succeed her. "And I think that you're underestimating Val," she ascertained firmly. "She'd never consent to be anyone's puppet. Not even Vlad's."

"You underestimate _Vlad_," Maddie shook her head. "I know him. If not for the incident twenty years ago that allowed me to prove my worth, the council would've probably elected Vlad to lead in my place. You don't seem to realise how manipulative he can be. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."

"But if both you and Vlad think you're doing what's best for the brotherhood, surely we should let our brethren decide, instead of contesting through such underhanded means," Sam protested.

"I wish that was the way things worked, Sam," Maddie shook her head, tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her apprentice's ear.

"There can never be any secrets between us, Sam," her mentor ascertained abruptly, her motherly features severe. "Every shred of information that you manage to achieve, you must share with me, regardless of how insignificant it may seem at the time. Do you understand me?" their leader questioned, her expression softening.

_It's now or never_, the ghost hunter realised as she swallowed, her throat dry._ If I don't relay to her Phantom's warning and something goes horribly wrong, I'll never forgive myself. But if I do, I'll have to admit to Maddie that I've directly defied her on more occasions than I'd care to count._

"Yes," Maddie's apprentice replied, hating herself for the deception. Not for the first time in half a year, Sam silently cursed Phantom for not allowing her to remain in ignorance.

"Good," Maddie smiled. "Danny would've been about your age, had he survived," she added quietly. "Just a couple of years older."

"I'm sorry," Sam offered, her expression sobering.

"You shouldn't be," her mentor replied. "It's not your fault. I just wasn't strong enough to protect him."

"No one would've been," the ghost hunter assured, squeezing her hand, and the Goth found herself overcome by a gentle, albeit firm desire to tell their leader to stop dwelling in the past.

"He was going to be such a handsome boy," Maddie sighed. "And who knows," her lips quirked into a teasing grin, and Sam found herself abruptly struck by the likeness of her expression to that of Phantom's when he playfully mocked her. "If things had worked out between you two, I could've had you as a daughter-in-law."

"_Maddie_," Sam protested in exasperation, floored by her mentor's remark. The Goth's subsequent indignant response was cut short as the pair were alerted to the patter of a pair of frenzied footsteps just outside Maddie's bureau, as Tucker burst into the room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Sam queried wryly, as her best friend leaned against the chipped door frame as he clutched a stitch at his side, evidently out of breath.

"No time," her tech operative gasped, already turning to leave despite his obvious fatigue, tripping over the words as he uttered them. "Lancer discovered a disturbing piece of information that requires Maddie's immediate attention."

"What's happened?" Sam queried, disconcerted by the look of worry on Tucker's face.

"We believe that Pariah's found himself a new general," her team mate's features were solemn, as the ghost hunter felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"Take me to him," their leader commanded sharply, already on her feet.

Her apprentice tailed mutely behind them, fearing the worst as Tucker was made no attempt to hide his worry from the two women.

Somehow, the ghost hunter could not banish the sinking feeling that what was about to unfold would be entirely her fault. She looked to her best friend for reassurance, dread mounting as Tucker immediately lowered his gaze, refusing to maintain eye contact. Did he blame her?

If Phantom hadn't revealed the Fright Knight's incompetence to the empire, Pariah might never have replaced him, worsening their current situation. From her encounter with the white haired ghost, the ghost hunter was now fully aware that her brethren weren't half as informed about high level ghosts as they liked to think.

"Maddie," Lancer greeted briskly, refusing to waste time on niceties as he strode towards their leader, handing her a hastily compiled file.

"Are you certain that your findings are reliable?" the brotherhood's leader questioned, her lavender eyes narrowing as she thumbed through its contents while Sam leaned over her shoulder, eager for a glimpse of the brotherhood's latest adversary. "Visibility is questionable in the few images that you've managed to procure."

"That's what Tucker and I were working on before I sent him to fetch you," the council member conceded grudgingly. "The subject moves too fast to be caught with conventional technology. While I cannot be a hundred percent certain, ectoplasmic readings are off the charts, higher than those of the Fright Knight at the full moon. Whatever it is, it's more powerful than anything we've encountered previously."

"All these readings were taken tonight?" Maddie's eyebrows shot upwards as she observed the data before her. "Even if this ghost hasn't replaced the Fright Knight, we still have a huge problem on our hands."

Sam felt dread sink into the pit of her stomach at her mentor's statement. The images were blurry, giving little away as to the identity of the new spectral threat, but the ghost hunter was certain that the entity in Lancer's photos was exactly what Phantom had been so desperate to warn her about. The white haired ghost had been right all along, Sam realised with a start, the revelation sending fervent chills of foreboding up her spine as she found herself overcome by guilt. Something terrible was about to happen. And like the incompetent fool she was, Sam had failed to warn their leader.

Sam opened her mouth, on the verge of a confession when her best friend unexpectedly tugged at her wrist, breaking her out of her reverie.

"What is it?" Maddie's apprentice questioned, ashamed at her relief that Tucker had interrupted her first attempt at a confession.

"Come to my work station," her tech operative mouthed, the moment he was certain that their superiors' attention was fully occupied. "There's something you need too see."

"Not now, Tucker," Sam scowled. "This is more important."

"Trust me," Tucker stated flatly, the grim expression on his countenance challenging her to argue. "It isn't."

"Fine," she conceded, taken aback by the severity of his features as she allowed herself to be led to the far corner of the room as she stood opposite him. "What are you so desperate to show me?"

"I think you're going to have to ready yourself for this first," her best friend warned, cracking his knuckles loudly before he placed them on his keyboard. "I can guarantee that you're not going to like the footage that I'm about to show you."

"But Lancer just said that you haven't managed to come up with any clear images yet," Sam's brow furrowed.

"I managed to hack into the town's CCTV system without Lancer noticing," Tucker informed quietly. "Remember those cameras I had you rig last week?"

"So they came in handy after all," Maddie's apprentice's lips quirked into a smile. "How perceptive of you."

"Not really," Tucker shrugged indifferently, before turning his full attention back to the screen, resuming his lightning fast assault of the keyboard before him. "I just got lucky."

Sam bit her bottom lip, unsettled. On most occasions, her techie relished opportunities such as these to brag excessively about his technological prowess, if only to be beaten down by either herself or Valerie. Yet, she had handed him the opportunity on a platter, and he hadn't risen to the bait. Whatever the reasons for Tucker's newfound sober attitude, the ghost hunter wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"I really don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this," Sam protested, after an augmented bout of uncharacteristic silence on Tucker's part.

"Believe me," her team mate replied darkly. "You soon will."

"Why won't you just tell me what's going on?" the ghost hunter queried meekly, increasingly unsettled by Tucker's reserve.

"Because I can't bring myself to tell you," he admitted softly. "I guess technology is just going to have to do it for me. Promise me that you won't freak out completely."

"Why would I?" Maddie's apprentice laughed, a sound made hollow by the prickling unease of foreboding. "What makes this ghost any different from the rest of them?"

"I can't quite manage sound on this," her tech operative's expression was bitter. "But I think this gives you a pretty good idea what's going on outside headquarters right now."

"What are you talking about?" Sam demanded, as Tucker reluctantly shifted the screen to face her.

The last thing she expected was for the very blood to freeze in her veins. She raised a shaking hand to cover her mouth, mind reeling as she staggered backwards.

There, amidst the carnage, was Phantom, mounted on a destrier as dark as sin itself as he led the ghost king's troops, his entire form engulfed in ghastly spectral energy.

"Sam?" Tucker queried softly in concern, taken aback by the unexpected magnitude of her shock as she was forced to lean on the desk behind her for support.

At first glance, Sam could hardly recognise him, unable to see past the ornate general's armor of black and silver, his black cape billowing behind him as his predecessor's once had; his very appearance was akin to something out of a nightmare.

"_No_," she whispered, as she felt the beginnings of tears sting the corners of her vision. "It can't be."

Phantom raised an authoritative hand as Pariah's troops ground to a halt behind him, pacing back and forth before his men as he issued instructions, the white haired ghost's orders met with firm salutes as the destrier reared on its hind legs, several members of the Night Police backing away in order to accommodate its immense wingspan as the black membranes of its wings unfolded. The beast bellowed as it took to the air, charging above the city's skyline at Phantom's command.

The ghost hunter's heart seemed to have stopped beating. Traditionally, the destriers were reserved for only the highest ranked of knights. They were beasts renown for their superior strength and agility, warhorses that were bestowed exclusively upon the king's elite by Pariah himself. There was no way that Tucker could've been mistaken. Phantom truly had joined the enemy; at the head of Pariah's troops. And from the looks of things, he was being more than well looked after.

It was funny what one noticed during times of despair, Sam realised, as she inadvertently found herself taking in every detail of her former ally's armor, from the burnished black breastplate to his silver boots, to his flawlessly polished silver vambraces which extended into the black gauntlets with which he gripped the demonic warhorse's reigns, controlling the battle stallion with effortless ease.

In a way, she could not deny that Phantom's new attire suited him, the medieval armor in which he was clad invoking a dark regality far more befitting of a spectral entity of his immense strength than the simple cotton shirts and frayed dark jeans that he had previously favoured. To her anguish, the general's armor proved sufficient to forever banish from Sam's mind any notions that the midian could ever be anything other than a monster. It seemed to complete him.

Sam could only look on in horror as blinding energy formed at Phantom's fingertips as he rose, releasing a wide beam of sheer ectoplasm into the cloudless sky where it formed an ethereal, pulsing expanse of green in the night. The white haired ghost dispassionately regarded his handiwork, clenching a gauntleted fist as the ectoplasm was distorted, Phantom's actions searing a fractured skull, the ghost king's sigil, into the starless sky of Amity Park where the burning green outshone the pale light of the moon itself, a proclamation to the world of his fresh allegiances.

The ghost hunter was painfully reminded of the night when their paths had first crossed, when in her state of delirium, Sam had managed to convince herself that the demon mounted on the warhorse before them was an angel. _So it seems that I was right,_ Sam ignored the tears that blurred her vision. _This monster is the angel of death._

Maddie's apprentice could not quell the caustic urge to be sick as she noted the innocent casualties forced to suffer through the white haired ghost's unnecessary display of power. It disgusted her, the manner in which he ignored the terrified humans left in his footmen's wake, as though their very presence was an insult to his existence, permitting them in his silence to allow them to subject civilians to all manner of vile actions, from offhanded murder to being compelled to grovel at his feet.

Phantom had once told her that he cared deeply for the wellbeing of the innocent, the _hypocrite_. Sam bit back a snarl of outrage, bile rising to the back of her throat at the sight of his indifference to the carnage wrought by his men as the entirety of Amity Park was bathed in the eerie glow of the ghost king's sigil in the night sky. Where was his concern _now_?

"Sam?" Tucker placed a hand on her shoulder, jolting her out of her stupor. "We have to go, Maddie needs us."

Her best friend's gentle prompting was met with dead silence, as the ghost hunter continued to stare blankly at the screen in front of her, her features unreadable as the city centre blazed a hellish green in Phantom's wake.

"Sam?" he tried again. "_Talk to me."_

"That traitorous bastard," she ground out, rage flaring to life as the ghost hunter smashed her fist onto the surface of Tucker's work station, oblivious to the bruising pain as something inside her broke.

"I know you're upset," Tucker hissed. "But now is not the time. I showed you that to prepare you. You have to calm down before Maddie suspects that you've been taking a far deeper interest in Phantom than necessary."

"Calm down?" Sam snarled, indignation evident despite the violence of her rage. "That _demon_ betrayed me," she spat. "You know what he's capable of. Phantom's doomed us all."

"What did you expect?" her tech operative's tone was wry, as though he was unsurprised by Phantom's betrayal. "He's a _ghost_. Just let it go, Sam. He's not worth it. The council will figure something out."

The ghost hunter's form seemed to crumple, allowing her lithe figure to relax as Tucker pulled her into a comforting hug. "Thank you," Sam whispered, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. There would be ample time to feel sorry for herself, if her brethren survived past tonight. But for now, their leader required her services, and there was no way in hell that Sam was going to let her down again, especially when she had already betrayed her trust.

"Come on, let's head back." her best friend sighed, his expression softening. "Maddie's waiting for you."

"You're right," the ghost hunter's fingers furled to form twin fists, feeling herself filled with fresh resolve as they crossed the tech lab to rejoin their mentors.

"Where did you two disappear to?" Lancer shook his head, exasperation evident. "Never mind," Tucker's mentor interjected, abruptly interrupting himself as he decided that their answer was of irrelevant consequence. "We have far larger problems to attend to."

"I managed to tap into the CCTV system at the town centre," Tucker offered sheepishly. "Clear imagery of our subject is no longer an issue."

"Then what are you waiting for, boy?" the head of the tech sector commanded, as his apprentice was ushered none too gently to Lancer's work station. "Our city's destruction?"

Lilac eyes fluttered shut as Sam allowed herself the luxury of a single, wavering breath as she attempted to sort through her increasingly knotted emotions, as Tucker brought up the images with relative speed, unsure if she could bring herself to once again survey the scene. In retrospect, none of this would have happened had she been killed by in the ambush almost six months ago. By prolonging her life by half a year, would the midian be fated to cause the demise of the entirety of Amity Park, damning thousands, perhaps even millions of innocent lives?

"Who is he?" Maddie demanded fiercely, turning to face the head of the technology sector, unaware of the exchange that had occurred between the two younger members of the brotherhood. "We need to know what that monster is capable of."

"We don't know," Lancer acknowledged grimly, his expression mirroring that of their leader's as Sam surveyed the dirt on the cheap tiled floor, refusing to meet her superiors' eyes. "But I'm not stopping until we find out."

"We need answers now," the brotherhood's leader snarled. "Amity falls tonight if we can't find a way to take that _thing_ down. Rally your subordinates; I want your entire sector on this immediately."

Tucker kicked at Lancer's work station, wheeling his chair to face them as he subjected Sam to a significant look, as if requesting her permission to speak. His best friend nodded bleakly in tacit approval, her features unreadable.

"What is it, Tucker?" the head of the tech sector questioned, curiosity evident.

"Don't bother," Tucker spoke reluctantly, his voice soft. "We know who he is."

Sam turned her gaze on her mentor, fervently hoping that Maddie would find no cause to question her former affiliations with Phantom. Would she suspect that Sam had defied her? The ghost hunter knew that after failing to confess her offenses earlier than night, to do so now would forever shatter Maddie's trust in her beyond conceivable repair. Their leader, however, chose to remain silent, surveying Sam's best friend expectantly as she waited for him to continue.

"How-?" Lancer sputtered stunned by his apprentice's apparent efficiency.

"Having our entire sector look him up would be a waste of time and resources," Tucker conceded. "I've already tried once. We have no information regarding him."

"Are you certain that you didn't overlook anything?" the head of technology asked. "We cannot afford mistakes, given our current situation."

"Positive," his apprentice affirmed. "I ran the queries several times."

"How do you know all of this?" Maddie questioned sharply.

"The new general's name is Phantom," Sam divulged, her expression murderous. "The same ghost who rescued me from the ambush almost six months ago. Judging from the abilities that he displayed while he destroying the Night Police, we estimate that he is approximately six hundred years of age."

"So Pariah's replaced one midian with another," Lancer observed, dread evident.

"Inform the sectors that I wish to hold a meeting," Maddie ordered her subordinate, her tone authoritative as she briskly exited the room. "I will summon the council."

"Despite your conviction, it wouldn't hurt to look the new general up again, Tucker," Lancer requested, before turning to leave. "We cannot afford mistakes. Not tonight."

The moment her superiors' footsteps were out of earshot, Sam finally permitted herself to slump to the ground, drawing her knees to her face in a foetal position as she allowed enraged tears to fall.

"Thank you for not freaking out," Tucker offered softly, as he awkwardly stroked her hair. "I know he gave you hope."

"Hope?" she echoed blankly. Suddenly, the ghost hunter found herself gripped by an unnatural, profuse acrimony towards her best friend for his sympathy towards her. Tucker should be shouting at Sam for her stupidity, blaming her for the dooming of their town, threatening to inform their leader of her insubordination, _anything_ but joining her on the floor to comfort her while she bawled her eyes out like a helpless little girl. She had allowed a ghost to save her, and now it seemed that Amity Park would suffer for her unforgivable lapse of judgment. For that, shouldn't he hate her?

"Would you like to be left alone?" her best friend queried gently, as though she was suddenly as fragile as porcelain.

Just as abruptly, her anger towards Tucker was gone, leaving Sam with nothing more than the mind numbing emptiness wrought from the overwhelming thirst for vengeance. She had been too complacent, going so far as to even make the mistake of trusting a ghost, a mistake that would never happen again. Maddie had been right all along. The enemy was not like them. She had been a fool to believe that a mutual understanding could ever be achieved.Phantom had deceived her; and for that, he would pay dearly.

"Has my kit been serviced?" Maddie's apprentice queried softly, her voice dangerously low. Sam's stomach acid seemed to have curdled, her fingernails digging hard enough into the palm of her hand to draw blood.

"Why does your kit have to do with anything?" her techie's brow furrowed, confusion evident.

"_Has my kit been serviced?_" the ghost hunter snarled.

"Y-yes," Tucker stuttered, taken aback by the ferocity of Sam's demand.

"Good," she replied darkly, turning on her heels as she left the tech room, violently scrubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her stealth suit.

"Where are you going?" her tech operative questioned, his voice edged with concern as he leaped to his feet to follow her.

"To find him," Sam hissed through gritted teeth. "That demon is going to regret the day that he crossed me."

**Author's Notes: **Sorry, no twist in this chapter. But I assure you that there are still a couple of curve balls heading your way;)

**Thanks to the lovely:** _Toyoko, kia, Xweetok, b4k4 ch4n, Musicallity, pearl84, Forelyse, Angelic Kittens, Mimo-Sene, CommonSenseless24, danny-fan-101, Sasia93, BaraHeishi, Emerald Calling, Raidon Phantom, Sweeteen19, jikd, Chanel2U, WinchesterPhantom, YumeTakato, Devilchild93, secret spy guy, passionateartist, Manyara, bloodmoon13, CharmedNightSkye, Kirimori, pwykersotz and FunkyFish1991_ for their all round amazing reviews. I'm so lucky to have readers that actually think about what they want to tell me when they write reviews. You have no idea how much I love reading your responses. Your reactions make me cackle, especially when your speculations are right!:D

**Hugs and kisses**

**Twisted **


	12. Despair

Bah, the uploading system is pure hate.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 11**

**Despair**

Regardless of Tucker's refusal to help her locate Phantom, Sam was met with no apparent difficulty in locating the midian. It was hardly difficult to follow the macabre trail of destruction wrought by his subordinates, as she pushed roughly past the panicked, stampeding crowd of citizens fleeing the scene of carnage. The stench of fear was overwhelming. In a way, she couldn't blame her tech operative. Both of them knew that what she was about to attempt was beyond suicidal. If Sam was in his situation, she knew that she wouldn't want Tucker's death on her conscience.

Soon, she was past the herd of humans escaping the latest of their dictators, entering a crumpled clearing that the ghost hunter could hardly recognise to be an uptown area of Amity to which her mother frequently delighted in bringing her shopping. Sam wouldn't miss it; not that anything ever lasted long in this god forsaken city.

The ghost hunter kept her eyes trained on the white haired ghost as his fearsome destrier roosted atop one of the abandoned shophouses that were still standing, amidst the eerie green flames of destruction wrought by his men. She had only one objective tonight, Sam scowled darkly as she closed the distance between them, and she'd be damned if she didn't complete it.

Sam would've thought that seeing Phantom in the flesh for the first time since the discovery of his betrayal would have instilled in her a feeling of despair and denial, that this couldn't possibly be the path that he had chosen. However, Maddie's apprentice felt nothing, almost as though the enlisting of the white haired ghost's services as Pariah's general had been an inevitability from the very beginning. Would their leader ever be able to forgive her if she learned the truth?

Her gaze flickered down towards the ground, where her combat boot had trodden on something soft, yet possessing a familiar solidity at the same time. She was standing on the fingers of a broken human child, no older than four. Sam blanched; despite being hardened by the war, the sight of dead children was still one she found difficult to stomach. From the look of his mutilated form, Pariah's army hadn't even needed to lift a finger. Amidst the previous chaos, the young boy had been separated from his mother, after which the stampeding masses of panicked adults stronger and faster than the child had done Phantom's work for him. Fear truly did bring out the worst in her kin.

The ghost hunter hissed in outrage, as she found herself overcome by a bout of desperation at her impotence. The toddler before her, her mentor's little Daniel, how many more innocent children was this war going to claim? She picked up the pace, her resolve strengthening as she sprinted towards the traitor responsible for this nightmarish evening, as if she could sear what she had just witnessed from her mind through sheer physical exertion.

Sam did not escape the attention of the Night Police for long. Phantom was the first to notice her presence; the white haired ghost seemed to freeze as he spotted her, a look of sheer terror crossing his features before his discomposure was hastily disguised. _He still has the audacity to be worried about me,_ the ghost hunter's fingers curled into fists, as she found herself overcome with unsurmountable fury._ After all his lies._

"What do have we here?" a member of the Night Police rasped, as the spectres surrounded her.

When faced with a demon of Phantom's strength, it was nearly impossible to fear his lackeys; Pariah's elite troops paled in comparison. The ghost hunter's fingers furled to form twin fists, the edges of her nails digging into her palm hard enough to draw blood. The ghosts were cowards, all of them, unwilling to attack even a single member of the brotherhood unless they held the advantage of numbers. The Goth allowed herself a grim smile, readying herself for the worst at their hands.

Sam made no effort to resist the spectral footmen as they materialised around her, forcing her hands behind her back as she was led roughly to their leader. After all, why should she run? She had come to confront Phantom. Her survival was of irrelevant consequence.

The Night Police hadn't even bothered to disarm her, the ghost hunter realised, cheeks colouring at the insult. They would regret their oversight, Sam scowled, determined to be the first of the brotherhood to show the spectres that their faith in Phantom was unfounded.

"The first member of the resistance we've come across tonight, my lord," Phantom's lieutenant cackled, his expression eager as the white haired ghost strove to maintain impassive, his hands shaking as he held his mount's reigns in a vice like grip, his facade betraying no trace of his discomposure.

"You, wench," the lieutenant demanded, gesturing roughly at Sam. "Defer before the general."

"Never," Maddie's apprentice snarled, her gauntlets assembling at her fingertips. At that very moment, the mere concept of fear was beyond her when compared to her rage at Phantom's betrayal.

"Defer to my lord," Pariah's footman hissed as he approached her. "Defer, or I will _make_ you kneel."

"I refuse to defer to any ghost," the ghost hunter spat. "No matter how powerful he thinks he is."

"Insolent little girl," the skeletal ghost growled, his bony fingers outstretched towards Sam. The ghost hunter bit back a scream of outrage and shock as her knees buckled on their own accord, as an unseen weight dragging her form to the ground.

The ghost hunter fought to right herself, her arms locking as she pushed hard against the dirt, determined to defy her captor. Sam's repeated attempts to resist her assailant were met with failure after horrific failure, as she was forced to endure the mounting shame of her vulnerability as her form crumpled at his feet, her struggles yielding nothing more than the crippling burning of her muscles as she fought him for control. The spectre snarled, tripling the magnitude of his attack as Sam was slammed roughly to the ground, drawing a shaky whimper from her throat as she found herself unwillingly prostrated before Phantom.

Never had the ghost hunter felt more humiliated in her entire life, her face down in the dirt whilst she was rendered completely vulnerable before Pariah's troops, the crushing pressure forfeiting control over her entire body as the very air was squeezed from her lungs. Sam found herself overcome by a fervent desire to scream, disgusted that when she realised that she was too winded to accomplish even that. Yet, she refused to allow herself to die. Not now; not before she gathered the opportunity to show the traitorous bastard exactly what she thought of him.

"_Enough_," Phantom roared, the arrogant authority of his voice ringing clear in the night air.

Sam was ashamed to admit that despite her crippling disbelief and rage at his betrayal, a small part of her still desperately longed for him to turn on his footmen, for him to obliterate them in the manner in which she knew only he was capable of. At that moment, the ghost hunter couldn't care less if the white haired ghost never joined her brethren. All she wanted was to return to the awkward truce they had previously shared. Anything, surely, was better than _this_.

"Leave the brotherhood girl," he declared, as his troops turned to him in surprise. "She is _mine_."

"A-as you wish my lord," the lieutenant stuttered, immediately releasing his hold over the girl with a hasty deferential bow in Phantom's direction.

Sam started, unwittingly surrendering to a prolonged gasp as the crushing weight dissipated from above her form, wincing as the hollow sound of air rushing back into her lungs followed. The ghost hunter drew her shaky form off the ground in a failed endeavour to rise, overcome by a shaming desire to turn tail and flee from the ghost that she had once considered an ally. His destrier whickered, pawing at the ground with a clawed hoof, dreary shadows forming as it flexed its great, bat like wings, drowning out the dismal moonlight.

The ghost hunter's previous desire for confrontation seemed to have deserted her, rising to her feet as she willed herself to stand her ground whilst Phantom approached on his impressive dark steed, his subordinates parting as they kept their distance from the general; although whether if it was out of mere reverence or fear of their superior, Sam did not know, nor did she care. She refused to give the enemy the satisfaction of knowing that his mere presence terrified her.

"Tend to Arion," the white haired ghost asserted imperiously, carelessly tossing his mount's reins to a member of the Night Police as he performed an overly flashy dismount that made Sam feel sick to her stomach, as his subordinate fumbled with the strips of leather.

"I have a message for Madeleine Fenton," Phantom extended a palm towards her, his armored fingers splayed as he addressed her for the first time, the smug smirk that adorned his features painfully evocative of the expression that used to cross his features when he used to tease her. "Tell the rebels to run while they still can."

This time, the ghost hunter refused to scream as she found herself once again pinned against the ground by some invisible force, readying herself for the worst at Phantom's hands. If a single member of Phantom's liege men was capable of suffocating her without even laying a finger on her, what would the white haired ghost himself be capable of?

"Like hell we will," she rasped, fiercely defiant despite how helpless she truly felt. She wasn't about to allow the midian to dominate her as he had the rest of Amity Park. The empire would never truly claim victory while there were still those who defied the king.

Before this, Sam could not help but fervently hope that this was all some form of a sick joke Phantom that had designed in order to test her loyalties towards him. But now, as the ghost hunter found herself forcibly humiliated by the white haired ghost amidst the jeers of approval from his troops, she couldn't even bring herself to give a damn whether she lived or died.

_Yet_, it wasn't as bad this time, Sam noticed with a start, as she waited for the blinding pain that never came. Maddie's apprentice furled her fingers experimentally to form fists, stunned as she realised that Phantom had chosen not to rob her of all motor function. She bristled, indignation following soon after. Phantom was _toying_ with her. Was this more underestimation on the enemy's part?

Sam's head snapped upwards to meet his gaze, determined to ask that ghost what exactly he was playing at when abruptly, at a lazy flick of Phantom's fingers, the ghost hunter found herself hurtled into the air at breakneck speed, unable to suppress her screams of undulated terror as she was levitated, higher and higher until the night lights of Amity Park and ugly flames wrought from the Pariah's troop's destructive rampage were nothing more than pinpricks of light in the distance.

As fear and adrenaline surged through her veins, the ghost hunter found herself overcome by blind rage at her carelessness, that she would die before she ever got the opportunity to ask Phantom _why_ he had chosen to betray her, to betray Amity Park. What had the empire offered him in exchange? Glory? Infamy? Power? The white haired ghost had once sworn that such trivialities would not sway him. Sam supposed that with Pariah's influence the empire could enlist the services of any being, no matter the price. Phantom was no exception.

She was slowing down, Sam realised, her mouth dry and her throat raw from screaming as she reached the peak of her trajectory, readying herself for the gruesome inevitability of her fall to her death. She was picking up speed even faster than she could have ever imagined she descended, first through the low, murky clouds, then the city's skyline, plummeting past the roofs of Amity's buildings, her face streaked with tears as the wind tore at her vision, so disorientated that she didn't know if she was rising again or falling to her demise.

The ghost hunter gritted her teeth, prepared to meet her death as the earth lurched upwards to meet her. At least the Night Police would be denied the perverse amusement of witnessing her being crumpled on the pavement like road kill, Sam thought with grim satisfaction. Phantom's little trick was going to result in her landing in a completely different section of the city. So it seemed the general had less control over his own abilities than he liked to think.

"_I'm sorry, Maddie_," the brotherhood girl whispered as her eyes squeezed shut.

Sam yelped in surprise as an invisible entity lunged at her, cradling her form as a strong hand curved around her neck to prevent it snapping in half from the impact. The ghost hunter raised a gauntlet clad hand to her line of vision, her blood freezing in her veins as she realised that she, too, had been rendered invisible by her rescuer.

"I'm sorry I put you through that," Phantom murmured, as Sam's heart leaped into her throat at the sound. "It was to ensure that we weren't followed," the ghost explained, his tone apologetic.

Maddie's apprentice strove to form words with her mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, her battered nerves refusing to cooperate as she shivered despite the warmth of the night air, hyperventilating as she drew rapid, greedy breaths, her body striving to recover from its most recent ordeal.

She didn't bother suppressing her screams of undulated terror as they picked up speed, her entire form wracked with tremors as she wrestled to free herself from his grasp as she was subjected once again to the horrifying experience of weightlessness as she was hurled _into_ the buildings and infrastructure of the city as though she was nothing more than a rag doll, so fast that it took her moments to bring herself to comprehend that she was experiencing firsthand the effects of spectral intangibility.

Just as abruptly as he had began, Phantom slowed, flickering into vision as they descended towards the ground below.

"Let me go," Sam screamed, struggling wildly in his grasp. "Let me go you _monster_!"

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this," Phantom; no, the _general_ replied bitterly, a thin smile on his lips. Sam endeavoured not to flinch his hands furled around her upper arms, lowering her to the ground with surprising gentleness. "Are you injured?"

"Drop the act, Phantom. You don't give a damn about me," her eyes flashed, as the ghost hunter's gauntlets flared to life. "You've _never_ cared," she hissed, furling her fingers as she hurled the artificial spectral energy in his direction, finding herself overcome with nothing more than an unbridled, violent desire to_ hurt him_, the consequences be damned.

"I attempted to forewarn you twice," the white haired ghost growled, a note of protest in his voice, and Sam was stunned as she noticed genuine hurt flicker across his expression. His fingers furled to form fists as he hastily threw his forearms across his face, shielding himself from her attacks. "You cannot truly believe that you mean nothing to me."

"Shut up. Just_ shut up_," the ghost hunter snarled, ruthlessly quelling the small uprising of empathy for Phantom. "We both know that you've used me from the start. Just stop pretending to care. I'm not listening to any more of your lies."

"My messenger already had it hard enough without you rejecting my warning. It's been days since he's last eaten or slept," the general sighed, dropping the spectral shield around himself as he himself seemed to be overcome by genuine fatigue. "He didn't need your refusal to leave Amity Park to make his life any more difficult."

"At this rate, you're going to work him to death," Sam glared. "Or are humans like him expendable?"

"Expendable?" Phantom repeated blankly. "He is more important to me than you know," the ghost's expression hardened. "This topic isn't open for discussion."

"When is anything ever open for discussion with you Phantom?" she questioned, eliciting a soft snort from the white haired ghost.

"What I know could get you killed," he replied, his expression pained. "As you've probably already guessed, it's concept that I am rather against."

"For god's sakes, Phantom," Maddie's apprentice growled, sick of his falsehood. "Stop pretending. We both know where your allegiance has always lain."

"You think I _want_ this?" Phantom roared, his eyes and fists flaring a deathly green as his fists met with the wall of the abandoned warehouse, the ghost hunter refusing to shrink back as his blows subjected the disused brick to such brutality that it crumbled. "I am just as much a slave to the empire as you are."

"A slave?" Sam echoed, indignation threatening to bubble over the edge as she felt herself overcome with blinding self-righteous fury. Once, Phantom's derisive comments regarding her kind would have filled her with almost familiar exasperation, perhaps even affection. Now, the ghost hunter could not bring herself to regard the ghost with nothing more than burning hatred; not that he had left her with even the slightest inclination to feel otherwise.

"The Night Police-_ your men_," she hissed, her tone accusatory. "Attempted to compel me to grovel at your feet. Tell me," the ghost hunter demanded. "Is that your warped idea of slavery? To endure the mere presence of us inferior humans as we are forced to defer before you? I can only _imagine_ how unbearable your current situation must be."

"You have no right to speak to me in that manner," the white haired ghost snarled, green eyes flickering with unbridled rage in a manner eerily reminiscent of his predecessor. "If not for you, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. I could've left you to die, _twice over_."

"Then _why_ do you keep saving me?" the ghost hunter screamed, past caring as an edge of hysteria entered her voice. "Why didn't you just let me die that night?" she demanded. "I should be _dead_."

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice laced with quiet desperation.

"Then kill me," she whispered. "_Anything_ would be better than having to live with the knowledge that I've condemned my brethren to death and exile."

"You don't mean that," Phantom growled, anger entering his tone. "After everything I've been through on your account, you cannot possibly wish this."

"And none of this was done for the sake of that woman you sent after me?" Sam questioned roughly, recalling the flamed haired female ghost who he had sent to warn her. "I thought so," she spat, as she noticed the flicker of worry in his green eyes at her mention.

"Pariah threatened Ember's wellbeing," the white haired ghost conceded. "I was left with no choice."

"You _always_ have a choice," the ghost hunter snarled, her surging rage activating her gauntlets as she was overcome with a second desire to attack him.

"I owe her everything. What was I supposed to have done?" he replied bitterly, as his utterance was met with Sam's stony refusal to answer.

So it seemed that despite his betrayal, Phantom still seemed to maintain some perverse form of concern for her wellbeing, Sam realised, the revelation chilling her very bones. What were his intentions towards her now? Whatever they were, the ghost hunter was all too aware that she would have no means by which to stop him. It was best to keep the midian talking, she decided. Conversation with the white haired ghost, regardless of how painfully bitter, was far better than the alternatives that Maddie's apprentice feared to even consider.

"Arion?" Sam snorted softly, breaking the silence. "An arrogant name for a warhorse."

"He was a gift," Phantom ground out, his shoulders hunching as he pressed his palms against the wall, unwilling to face her. "Who am I to refuse what the king proffers?"

"I thought you were stronger than this," the ghost hunter whispered bitterly. "Somehow, I managed to convince myself that you were better than them. That you were different. I guess I was wrong."

"What makes you think that I had any choice in the matter?" the general voiced, resent evident. Whether his rage was towards her or directed at the empire, Sam didn't know. Neither did she care to know. After all, his was the face of the enemy. Why should she care how he felt? "What Pariah wants, Pariah always gets."

"I hope you're happy," she enunciated through gritted teeth, her tone biting. "You've got everything a monster like you could ever possibly want. _And more_."

"Why do you always assume that you know what I want?" he replied furiously.

"What _do_ you want?" she questioned, as her query was met with a second bout of augmented silence.

"I need you to leave," Phantom said desperately. "Now. It's still not too late to get your brethren out of this god forsaken city."

"No," Sam refused. "This is my home. If we abandon Amity Park, it will fall. _Someone_ has to protect the city from you."

"Why do you have to be so _damned stubborn_?" the ghost roared.

The next thing Sam knew, she was being caged between Phantom's arms as he pinned her roughly to the wall behind her, so close that she could feel his icy breath on her lips. Despite the sheer irrationality of the ghost hunter's panicked thoughts, his proximity as he held her captive seemed to invoke in Sam far greater terror than the concept of her death. "Don't touch me," the ghost hunter demanded savagely, as she struggled to free her wrists from his steely grip, striking at him with every fibre of her being.

"I'm begging you to leave," the general repeated fiercely, as his eyes flared a burnished green. "Is that what you want, Sam?" he uttered, his closeness sending violent shivers down the ghost hunter's spine. "For me to beg at your feet? Because I'll do it. If it means that I can convince you to leave Amity, nothing is below me."

"Why don't _you_ leave?" the ghost hunter challenged. "I was under the impression that fleeing like a coward is something you're particularly adept at."

"My absence will not change the king's intentions for Amity Park," Phantom snarled, frustration evident. "You don't seem to understand just how important you are to me."

The ghost hunter blinked, taken aback. "This doesn't change anything," Sam leered, her expression pure venom.

"Of course it doesn't," the general replied bitterly. "It's always black and white with the brotherhood, isn't it? It doesn't matter that I've saved your life twice."

"And in doing so, condemned the rest of my kin," Sam added bitterly. "Why do you still care, Phantom? Pariah knows where the brotherhood's headquarters are. What else could you possibly want from me?"

"I haven't told him anything," the ghost insisted. "How could I? Even I don't know where the brotherhood resides."

"Then why should I have to leave?" the ghost hunter demanded. "Why should we fear you any more than the Fright Knight? You're both nothing more than monsters that need to be stopped."

"I refuse to stand by and watch you die tonight," he growled. "You cannot put me through this, Sam."

"Your new status does not make you immortal," she decided, finality evident. The ghost hunter looked up defiantly to meet his gaze, unflinching. "God help me, the next time our paths cross, I swear on my grandmother's grave that I will be the one to destroy you."

"If that is what it will take to convince you to leave, then very well," Phantom replied, his features devoid of any hesitation. "_I _thought you were different," the ghost whispered, as he withdrew himself from her small form, and despite herself, Sam could not ignore the sharp pang that pierced her chest at his words.

"Now _run_," he hissed.

**Author's Notes:** Poor Sam, poor Phantom. cackles

I'm sorry how long it took for this to be posted. Especially since I wrote most of it before I wrote the previous chapter. I just haven't had the time lately to finish this. But since I've deprived you guys for so long, I was determined to update, so here it is. I hope it didn't disappoint.

**Thanks to the wonderful: **_aulinin, Tie-dyed Trickster, Sasia93, Chaos Dragon, bloodmoon13, kia, b4k4 ch4n, EmeraldCalling, Toyoko, Xweetok, december's morose, Musicallity, Teo20, Life is Full Of Regrets, wondergirl101, Angelic Kittens, passionateartist, FreakLevel27, CharmedNightSkye, YumeTakato, Manyara, Mimo-Sene, Raidon Phantom, luckygirl777, Sweeteen19, Nobody Famous, WinchesterPhantom, CommonSenseless24, Devilchild93, pwykersotz, Zilleniose, ERIKS PROTEGE _and _FunkyFish1991_ for their reviews that got me all giggly.

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**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	13. Regret

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 12**

**Regret**

_For Chaos Dragon._

The expedition that Phantom had undertaken into the human realm had not been of his own vocation, the raid had been conducted on the king's command. But even to him, Pariah's motives had been clear. The ghost king was not without intelligence, but the white haired ghost supposed that a midian as powerful as Pariah Dark possessed no reason for subterfuge. Phantom knew that he had been ordered to visit Amity Park for one reason, and one reason alone; to establish himself as a monster to be feared. Fear was a powerful tool, one that the empire had grown particularly adept at wielding over the centuries. Few would dare to oppose a bloodthirsty tyrant, and those foolish enough to do so were soon met with their demise. In proving himself to be the Fright Knight's equal in ruthlessness, Phantom had ensured that the numbers of rebels eager to rid themselves of their town's dictators would dwindle. 

It disgusted Phantom, knowing that he had taken up the mantle of his adversary. Even with Ember's extensive knowledge of etiquette among ghosts, the white haired ghost could not help but feel that only a fool would fail to see through their pathetic masquerade. It would not be difficult for any member of the ghost king's court to unmask him for what he truly was- a young man fumbling to hold together the murky fragments of a deception that he had unwittingly created five years ago. It had been Phantom's careless impulsiveness that had led him to challenge the Fright Knight when he was fifteen, a mistake he had been too stubborn to learn from when he once again insulted his predecessor by slaying his liegemen in order to protect a single human female that he knew nothing about.

The general's shoulders shook, as he endeavoured to suppress his bitter laughter. He _still_ knew nothing about the ghost hunter. But _god_, he wished he did. In defending Sam that night six long months ago, Phantom had damned Ember. His own life was of little consequence, but the half ghost would never be able to forgive himself if any harm were to ever befall his best friend. It amazed him that she continued to stand by his side, no matter how many times his unspeakable recklessness had let her down. He owed the azure haired ghost everything. And yet to this day, Ember had never asked for anything in return.

Despite everything that had occurred between them, the half ghost could not bring himself to wish that he had never met Sam. Her audacity and fierce defiance intrigued him, much as his own cowardice disgusted the white haired ghost. Perhaps the ghost hunter had been right; he should have fled instead of allowing himself to be enlisted into Pariah's services. Amity Park would still be doomed, but at least he would no longer be endangering Ember; she had already been through more than enough on his account.

Not that any of this mattered anymore. Sam had made it clear that she despised him and wished him dead by her own hand. Even though it pained him unbearably, Phantom could not bring himself to blame her. He had encouraged her to repeatedly seek him out, even allowing her to entertain the notion of an allegiance between him and her brethren.

Violent rage surged through his veins as he recalled Sam's assault by the Night Police, that he had been forced to stand idle while she had been forced to grovel before his feet like an animal, and that he had been incapable of doing anything to stop it. The ghost hunter was right; he _was_ a coward. How fervently the white haired ghost wished that he had managed to convince her to leave Amity in favour of a safer location. If Sam continued to defy the empire, Phantom knew that he would be powerless to help her evade the horrific eventuality that would follow.

Sam had every right to hate him; in her eyes, he had proven himself to be more of a monster than any ghost she had ever encountered. There was no doubt that the ghost hunter was better off without him, the white haired ghost told himself. And yet, something inside him had shattered the instant Sam declared that she wished she had died that night six months ago, that they had never met. If only he could bring himself to feel the same.

Arion folded the black membrane of his great wings as Phantom urged his mount to descend, circling the stone castle beneath them. His troops trailed after him, visibly wary of accidentally overtaking their liege in mid-flight. Despite the impossibility of his current situation, the white haired ghost could not help but relish the spectral soldiers' fear with savage satisfaction. One way or another, he would ensure that they suffered for their treatment of Sam earlier that night.

He tugged at his mount's reigns, wordlessly commanding the destrier to land as it unfurled its impressive black wingspan, its clawed hoofs striking the cobbled ground as it released torrents of captured air from beneath the membranes of its wings, with dark grace that was surprising for a beast so large.

"General Phantom," the sentries saluted, immediately signaling for the great gates to be opened, allowing the white haired ghost to pass.

Phantom ignored them, his eyes trained straight ahead as he led the procession of his footmen through the lavish, well kept grounds. The castle had been a gift from Pariah, along with Arion, and all manner of commodities the white haired ghost had neither want nor need of. Phantom wasn't stupid; the ghost king certainly had not done so out of kindness. The very meaning of the word was beyond Pariah Dark. The youthful ghost did not require Ember to explain to him that the only reason his liege had bestowed such gifts upon him was again to establish Phantom's standing in the eyes of the empire.

The white haired ghost had been all too aware that he would not be well received in Pariah's court. Despite his strength, the majority of the ghost zone's aristocracy would undoubtedly still view Phantom as an outcast, an usurper of the Fright Knight's title as opposed to a true successor. His forcible recruitment was far from common knowledge, but the fact that the other lords believed that he had spent the past six hundred years evading the empire's rule gave them little reason to trust him. For the first time in his life, Phantom found himself cursing the Fright Knight's incompetence. If not for his predecessor's complete inability to act, the ghost king would not have been forced to go to such lengths to recruit a replacement, and Sam would have no reason to despise him so.

A single servant boy hurriedly emerged from the stables, as Phantom's troops assembled swiftly in the quadrangle at the base of his castle. Despite his breathlessness, the ghost child did not slow, plainly fearful of the repercussions should his master be kept waiting.

"If I may, my lord," the stablehand subjected the white haired ghost to a hasty bow so low that Phantom had to wonder what was keeping the boy from toppling over.

The ghost general favoured the ghost child with a slight nod, wordlessly handing over the warhorse's reigns. Their survival depended solely on appearances, Ember had told him. If he acted as a lord, he would become one in his subject's eyes, and consequently be treated as such. Allowing his servants to tend to his prized mount was a display of trust on his part, an act that would gain him their trust and respect in return. Phantom wasn't particularly interested in accumulating the loyalties of those who served him, but his best friend had insisted that it was crucial in establishing their deception. His ignorance regarding etiquette that a midian of his age would typically be well aware of could result in their deaths.

"Was Arion able to meet your expectations, my lord?" the boy queried as he tethered the general's dark mount, eagerness evident on his expression despite his obvious apprehension of Phantom.

"He is a magnificent animal," the white haired ghost allowed a small smile to grace his features at the broad beam spreading across the stablehand's face. "Convey my thanks to your master for his training of the beast."

"It is our honour to serve you," the ghost child favoured Phantom with a second bow that appeared to be even lower than the first, perhaps due to the fact that he was dwarfed by the gargantuan warhorse beside him. The white haired ghost shifted, uncomfortable. The stable boy gawking at him in reverence was in all probability a good hundred years older than he was.

The general lowered his head to acknowledge the servant, dematerialising in a shock of white light as he reappeared in a stone grey balcony hundreds of feet above his men. Inclining languidly on the gilded balustrade overlooking the quadrangle below, Phantom favoured his men with an offhanded gesture, finally allowing them to stand at ease.

"You are dismissed," the white haired ghost announced, lowering his head to face the Night Police as they gathered below him, deciding that he had been forced to endure their presence for long enough. "I have no need of your services until our next patrol," he paused, the faintest traces of his reluctance evident as his men waited expectantly for his next words.

The reluctant general gritted his teeth, green eyes blazing as he felt himself filled with fresh resolve. He could not afford such weakness, any decision he could have made was filled with a multitude of what ifs. Dwelling on the past served him no purpose. For now, his main priority was to keep his best friend alive. His abject misery could never come to Pariah's attention; it would spell their doom, otherwise, and Ember's safety was worth far more to him than his pride.

"_Long live the king_," the general bellowed, punching his gauntlet clad fist into the air, as the declaration of his fresh allegiances was met with roars of approval from his liegemen. It was just as well that the intellectual capacity lacked by foot soldiers prevented them from becoming anything more, remaining in their meager roles for centuries. Phantom had never been one for theatrics, even if his survival were to depend on it.

It tore him apart, that despite his insisting on the existence of complications beyond Sam's understanding, Phantom had been faced with nothing more than simple choice, and he had failed her. There was nothing more he could do for the ghost hunter who had captured his heart what seemed an eternity ago. But for Ember's sake, he would endure.

-

Alone in the sparsely lit corridors outside the council chamber, Samantha Manson sat slouched against the cement walls, taking deep, measured breaths as she endeavoured to quell her nerves. The full council had expressed to Maddie their wish to interview her for information regarding Phantom, and the council's requests usually amounted to orders that could not be refused.

Appearing before the council was a daunting prospect in itself without the fact that she would have to subdue her nervousness and lie through her teeth in order to protect Tucker and Valerie from severe disciplinary action. The ghost hunter could not help but find herself torn between lying to her superiors in order to protect her friends, and a murderous urge for vengeance against the monster who had betrayed her. Whatever happened, she only hoped that she would not embarrass Maddie any further.

She jumped, startled by the creaking of the old wooden door as her mentor's face peered out to greet her.

"I'm sorry we kept you waiting, Sam," Maddie's smile was warm and encouraging, despite her apparent fatigue. "Our previous discussion took a lot longer than necessary. Why don't you come in and have a seat?"

The ghost hunter glanced past her mentor, fully surveying the interior of the room for the first time. The council chamber was of no apparent grandeur, yet Sam could practically feel the authority radiating off the individuals that it housed. Seven weary pairs of eyes bore into her vision as she crossed the room, leaving Sam with an uncomfortable prickling at the back of her neck from their unwanted stares, and the unavoidable scrutiny and judgements that she knew would follow from those who didn't know her.

Seven council members, inclusive of their leader, as was the tradition with her brethren. Seven veterans on whose shoulders rested the fate of the brotherhood, and ultimately Amity Park. Maddie's apprentice resisted the temptation to bite her lip in a nervous gesture. Had they already written her off?

Jack winked cheerily at her as she approached, and she smiled gratefully in return. At least she could take comfort in the knowledge that not all of them were out to unearth her ineptitudes.

"Since the council has decided to make an exception and allow an underage member of our brethren into the council chambers, I don't see why I couldn't have brought my apprentice as well," Vlad Master's utterance was gruff. "After all, she is just as much a witness as Samantha is."

"Having one child sitting in on our meeting is already one too many for my liking," Tetslaff replied shortly, folding her arms as she regarded Sam with derision, leaving the ghost hunter fighting the fierce urge to retort that she was no longer a child.

"Forgive her, she doesn't mean that," Kaeda Ishiyama smiled softly. "Please, do make yourself comfortable, Samantha."

"Thanks," the ghost hunter replied awkwardly, unable to suppress her nervousness as she took a seat amongst her far older, more experienced superiors. If Maddie still intended for her to lead their brethren, whatever impressions she made tonight could make all the difference to furthering her mentor's aims. She would not fail Maddie; not again.

"I assume you know why you are here, Sam," Lancer addressed her, not waiting for the ghost hunters small nod as he got straight to the point. "How much did you manage to find out about Phantom during your captivity?"

"Phantom was extremely careful," Sam shook her head, fighting the urge to avert her eyes from the council's gaze. "He revealed almost nothing to me, apart from the fact that there was, and most likely still is, animosity between Phantom and his predecessor. It is unlikely that their power struggles with cease just because the Fright Knight's standing in the King's eyes has been diminished."

"How can you be certain of all this?" Ishiyama queried. "For all we know his claims could be nothing more than an attempt to manipulate you."

"My team was present in the inner city the night that the two midians dueled," Sam stated, choosing her words carefully as her revelation was met with startled silence. "Our surveillance confirms Phantom's claims."

"You and Valerie were out there that night?" Damon echoed, the incredulity in his voice edged with anger.

"My orders were clear," Maddie ground out, as purple eyes locked. "There was to be no one on the streets, without exception. That was a risk you shouldn't have taken."

"Forgive me," her apprentice flushed, bowing her head in a deferential gesture as she was berated before the full council. "We were too eager to take advantage of the narrow window of opportunity that had presented itself to us. Of course, we had no idea then that the duel would occur," Sam hastened to add, fervently hoping that the council would fail to see through the first of her lies. "We merely hoped to collect valuable information regarding the former general."

"What's done is done," Lancer shook his head. "I will collect the files from Tucker the instant this meeting is adjourned. No matter how Sam acquired the information, we cannot deny its benefits. In any case, her and Valerie's bravery is commendable."

"You said that he contacted you after the duel. Has he displayed any weaknesses?" Maddie pressed. "Did you notice _anything_, no matter how small, that could be used to our advantage?"

The ghost hunter bit her tongue, unsure if she should inform her superiors that Ember had revealed herself to her in order to relay Phantom's warning regarding his attack on Amity Park, doubtlessly raising the question of why Phantom would think to warn a single female girl. But as matters stood, the general's concern for the female ghost's wellbeing was the only weakness that he had displayed to date.

It was for the greater good, Sam told herself. Such information could be crucial to the survival of her brethren. Even if the revelation brought her and her mentor dishonour, at least the brotherhood would be endowed with a greater fighting to chance to escape its current fate. In order to protect the friends that were dearer to her than family, she would have to bite the bullet and accept the consequences; whatever penances she would be subjected to paled in comparison to the destruction of everything she had ever known.

"There was a female ghost- Ember, I believe he called her," Sam's brow furrowed. "That he seemed to hold in high regard, if not affection. Her capture would be an invaluable asset to any future negotiations furthering our cause."

"So you suggest that we barter her safety for ours," Ishiyama surmised, her features pensive.

"Yes," Sam affirmed, "Without a doubt, Ember will be significantly easier to take down than Phantom."

"Ember," Jack repeated blankly, as though the situation was ludicrous. "Are you absolutely certain that that was what she was called?"

"Well, no," the ghost hunter admitted. "Phantom only mentioned her by name once. Still, it isn't exactly a typical namesake. I encountered her briefly, during which she insisted that I left Amity Park. But prior to yesterday, I had no reason to believe the claims of a ghost."

"This Ember you speak of," Damon Gray paused, as he and Vlad Masters exchanged apprehensive glances. "How powerful is she? It is simple to suggest that we capture her in order to blackmail Phantom, but the acquaintance of a midian is unlikely to be without substantial strength herself."

"No," Maddie's apprentice shook her head as she sought to keep pangs of unexpected jealousy at bay and concentrate on the task at hand, yet unaware of the mounting discomfort of her superiors that seemed to fortify itself in the council chamber. "She would not require Phantom's protection otherwise. Events so far have proved that Phantom's loyalties are flexible, as long as Ember's wellbeing is threatened. Her capture is the best chance we've got."

"This female ghost," the brotherhood's leader seemed to falter, her breath hitching in her throat as her fingers furled into fists against the table. "What did she look like?"

"I estimate her to be Phantom's junior by several centuries," Sam bit her bottom lip, unsettled by the icy chill that seemed to have descended upon the room as the entirety of the council awaited her next words with unfathomable dread. For the first time since the ghost hunter had entered the room to subject herself to her superiors' questioning, Sam commanded the gathering's complete attention as they abruptly decided to value her presence. She only wished that she knew why. "She is skilled in pyrokinetics, among other abilities that I was unable to witness. She was-"

"What did she _look like_?" Tetslaff reiterated Maddie's question more forcefully, interrupting Sam as she acknowledged younger ghost hunter for the first time.

"I- what?" Sam blinked, taken aback by the oddity of the demand. She had been brought before the council to discuss Phantom, yet suddenly all they seemed to be interested in was his flame haired female acquaintance. Why was Ember so important to _everyone_?

"Was she of average height, thin, with blue hair, dark make up and with an apparent attitude?" Tetslaff demanded. "_Answer me,_ child," she snapped, verging on the limit of her notoriously short temper.

"Yes," the ghost hunter replied, stunned that the council member possessed such knowledge. "But how did you-"

"Ember McLain," Ishiyama breathed, her eyes wide. "There can be no further doubts about this. Our worst fears have been confirmed."

"_No_, it cannot be," Jack whispered, as his large form seemed to crumple with despair. "She cannot have betrayed us."

"It seems that she already has, old friend," Vlad's tone was dull, as though the revelation had resigned them to defeat. "In which case, we should evacuate headquarters immediately. The secrecy of our location has long been compromised."

"What's going on?" Sam queried, only to find herself ignored now that her utterances had failed to assuage her superior's fears as they discussed the apparent revelation heatedly amongst themselves, their voices raised.

"Perhaps we should even consider disbandment," Damon Gray gritted his teeth. "Ember knows the intricacies of the brotherhood inside and out. Our protocol, how we move, how we think, how we'd react in practically every situation. The empire's been toying with us for longer than we could've ever imagined."

"We cannot abandon our brethren," Tetslaff disagreed, her voice terse. "If Ember has chosen to betray us, then let her bear the consequences of her crimes. I'm not giving that bitch the satisfaction of knowing that she has has doomed us all."

"Perhaps she is still on our side," Lancer argued, but his protests lacked conviction. "Why would she choose to reveal herself to Sam otherwise?"

"Ember's always had a twisted sense of humour," Vlad's lips quirked upwards in a bitter smile. "Perhaps she chose to appear before _Maddie's_ apprentice as a mockery of our ignorance. The question is: Why now?"

"I refuse to believe this," Maddie's gaze hardened, although her voice lacked its usual resolve as she spoke up for the first time since the identity of Phantom's acquaintance was revealed. "I trusted her," their leader whispered, her voice cracking in mournful disbelief. Maddie grimaced, drawing a long, shaky breath as though enduring the chafing of salt to an old wound long rubbed raw.

"You are not to blame," her husband replied, gently stroking her red hair. "We all did."

"It was your own apprentice that brought this to our attention, Maddie," Damon Gray growled. "We don't have the luxury of time to sit here in denial. We need to act, _now_."

"I'm with Damon," Vlad drawled. "The situation is barely salvageable as it is."

"I don't understand," Sam cut in desperately, as she turned to her mentor. "What's everyone talking about?"

"I'm sorry Samantha," Ishiyama apolgised, throwing a worried glance in Maddie's direction. "We didn't mean to leave you out of this discussion. Ember McLain," the Japanese woman began, but faltered as she caught their leader's gaze. "She was killed by the Night Police almost thirty years ago, but-"

"But before then," Maddie interjected, her composure regained as she gripped the ledge of the wooden table so hard that her knuckles turned white, subjecting her apprentice to the revelation that not one of her subordinates could bear to even utter. "She was one of us. My partner."

**Author's Notes:** Dun dun dun! Bwahahaha! Bet you didn't see that coming.

Ugh, I just had a 40 minute battle with the uploading system. I'm ever so sorry for how long it took for this update to come. I just haven't had much time lately, and when I do, I tend to end up sleeping instead of writing. And I was going to write yesterday, but I decided that I was too hungover from 30 STM to actually do a half decent job. Late as it is, I do hope you enjoyed the update, though!

Also, thanks to _bloodmoon13_ and _dannyfan101_ for **AA **concept art on DA that makes me squee.

**Thanks so much to the wonderful:** _KHFREAK14, Bitch-with-Wit, LoveInsanity, WinchesterPhantom, Sasia93, pwykersotz, Stardino, Velvet Star, Amethyst Ocean, CommonSenseless24, Acoustic Maiden, phu57r473d b337h0v3n 0n 573r0id5, danny-fan-101, Toyoko, Teo20, Koccinnelle, Zilleniose, b4k4 ch4n, pearl84, FreakLevel27, Chaos Dragon, Forelyse, passionateartist, Mimo-Sene, YumeTakato, Xweetok, aulinin, Angelic Kittens, Dancos, FunkyFish1991, kia, bloodmoon13, Poison's Ivy, Black January, Tie-dyed Trickster, CharmedNightSkye, Writer's-BlockDP, ShatterMyMuse _and _DarkprincessAngel_ for their wonderful reviews, and sorry again for keeping you waiting:(

Please leave a review to let me know that my efforts have been appreciated:D


	14. Denial

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 13**

**Denial**

Phantom navigated his way through the cold upper corridors of his castle, the General's mantle trailing behind him as he headed for his private chambers in order to seek respite. Despite the vast amount of work he knew was put into the upkeep of his stronghold, Casa del Phantom always seemed to be permeated by a dismal, lonely air that the white haired ghost had yet to be able to banish.

Servants and soldiers alike pressed their backs to the walls of narrow, convoluted granite to allow him to pass unhindered, starting and lowering their heads when they accidentally met his eyes. Some even attempting half bows, even if the lack of space did not permit it, causing Phantom strive not to blanch. He neither wanted nor deserved their respect.

This was quite literally a whole other world. One in which he still knew next to nothing about about, despite Ember's desperate tutoring. It was a miracle in itself that they had yet to be found out. In his darkest moments of self pity and loathing, Phantom didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold out before he cracked. Surely, it wasn't so much a question of if he would crack as to _when_. It had been an impossible situation to begin with. He should have taken Ember and fled Amity to the other side of the world, far beyond the reaches of the Empire. Especially not that he had no reason to stay, since one person that he had chosen to remain for now envisioned his face when she thought of the enemy.

No, Phantom told himself. He could not afford to allow emotions to cloud his judgment. However precarious their current standing with Pariah Dark, Ember was infinitely safer here than they would be on the run. Fleeing now would be seen as an insult to his liege that the General would never be able to salvage, and he would not risk Pariah laying a hand on his best friend; not for anything. And despite himself, even though Sam had made it clear that she thought him despicable, catching an occasional, fleeting glimpse of the Brotherhood girl when he entered the human realm allowed him to ensure her safety, if only to console himself.

The white haired ghost flung open the heavy doors of his bedchamber, inwardly groaning at the sight that greeted him. The damned slaves were _everywhere_. For one who was accustomed to doing their own laundry in the human realm, having to endure the servitude of perhaps a hundred low caste ghosts bustling about as they strove to do his bidding was almost unbearable.

If he had any say in the matter, the white haired ghost would never leave his chambers unless absolutely necessary. However, if it was made known that General Phantom was spending extended periods of time alone in no one but Ember's presence, the Empire would soon begin to suspect that the azure haired pyrokine was a lot more than she let on. But for now, all he wanted was a moment to himself before he was once again forced to don the mask of pretense.

"Leave me," the white haired ghost demanded roughly, to the astonishment of the servants scurrying about about on errands in his sizable bedchamber. "Do not make me repeat myself," the General snarled, an eerie, terrifying vibrato entering his voice as his subordinates hastened to take their leave.

"That includes you, Desiree," he uttered gruffly, trying his utmost not to look at the courtesan who had taken the liberty to deposit herself on his redundantly large bed.

"Surely that cannot be what you desire of me, Lord General," Desiree murmured quietly as she fingered his bedsheets, as though certain that the statement was fact.

"I assure you," the General growled. "It is. Now leave me in peace."

"I was sent by the King to keep you entertained, my Lord," the concubine's painted lips curved into a sultry smirk. "I'm not going anywhere, so I suggest you make the most of the situation," she ran her fingers across the exquisite black sheets, inviting Phantom onto his own bed in a manner that made the white haired ghost feel physically sick. "The King merely wishes to express his appreciation or your efforts; you've exceeded his expectations thus far in your endeavours. I don't assume that I need to tell you that Pariah is very difficult to impress."

Regardless of whether he had indeed managed to please his liege, Phantom knew that the courtesan's primary duties lay elsewhere- as a spy placed to ensure his loyalty to the Empire. The General snorted softly in disgust. How much of a fool did the King perceive him to be? "Whatever you have to offer, I am not interested."

"I find it difficult to believe you," Desiree examined her fingernails, a brief flicker of irritation crossing her features as she noticed a slight chip. "Between what they are saying about that unfortunate brotherhood girl and that little lightskirt you keep, we both know you're hardly celibate."

"What have you heard?" the General questioned sharply as he turned to face her, an icy chill gripping his chest at her careless mention of Sam.

"Your expedition to Amity Park in order to establish yourself in the eyes of the humans is common knowledge," Desiree waved a manicured hand dismissively. "The Ghost King made it known. They say that you insisted on her singlehanded execution, after which you violated her remains," the courtesan wrinkled her nose. "A little gruesome for my liking, but it seems to have gained you support amongst your subordinates. I suppose you men are all the same, aren't you? Despite your ranks."

"I was not aware that such gossip mongers existed among my men," the General quirked a white eyebrow as he commented dryly, outwardly amused despite his relief at the empire's continued ignorance.

He had balked when Ember had first instigated the rumour, masterfully playing her part as his haughty pleasure maid, seemingly reluctant to share what her lord had supposedly confided in her and her alone with his troops. His initial objections had stemmed from an abject refusal to allow any of the Night Police to think of Sam in such a manner, but he had to concede his best friend's point. There was no surer way to ascertain that the Brotherhood girl would not be hunted in future than fabricating false confirmations amongst his troops that she had been slain by his hand. Phantom supposed that he was fortunate that footmen remained so for centuries with good reason.

"Maybe not, my lord," Desiree smiled thinly. "But perhaps you should be careful what you confide in that second rate whore of yours."

It was not until after he had dealt the blow that Phantom realised what he had done, immediately regretting his inability to control his murderous fury. Tendrils of smoke still wisped from the tips of his gauntlet-clad fingers, as he blinked to clear the aftershock of searing green from his vision as irritation at himself set in.

He had to have more self control than this. It had been his best friend's own intention to degrade herself in their eyes so that none would suspect her as his advisor and confidant, a decision he knew that he had no choice but to respect. If it was discovered that Ember McLain was divulging to him information regarding etiquette and the workings of Pariah's court that a midian of his standing would've long since mastered, it would spell the end of their deception, and he'd be damned if a bitter courtesan with nothing more than a sharp tongue was his undoing. For an instant their gazes locked, before Desiree lowered her head meekly in deference. _Good_, Phantom thought savagely. _Let her fear me._

"Never demean Ember by referring to her as such ever again," the white haired ghost hissed, his eyes flashing. "She is _nothing_ like you."

"I expect not," the concubine wrinkled her dainty nose in distaste as she clambered shakily to her feet, having already recovered from his assault. "With her mere scores of existence, she's done nothing more than scratch the surface of an art that I've had centuries to perfect."

Violence at the hands of arrogant, temperamental warlords was probably an ordeal that Desiree had long since learned to endure over the centuries, Phantom realised abruptly. The white haired ghost felt an unexpected stab of pity for the woman before him, fleeting as it was. He only hoped that neither he nor Ember would never have to sink to such degradatory measures in order to survive.

"Perhaps you misunderstood me before," the General enunciated coldly, fervently wishing that his best friend would return soon. "Although I doubt that I could've made myself any more clear. I have no need of your services, Desiree. _Leave_."

"The King seeks to reward you, and this is how you repay him?" Desiree's voice took on an incredulous tone, before her lips curved into a deprecatory smirk. "Or perhaps you require me to cater for your more exotic tastes?"

Her form shifted, and Phantom had to fight the urge to stagger backwards as Sam's eyes stared back at him, empty and lifeless as they did in the countless nightmares that plagued him, her neck bent at an awkward angle. Her arms hung useless at her sides, dislocated at the shoulder as she proceeded towards him in jerky, halting movements, in a manner akin to that of a bloody marionette.

"_Get out_," he roared, as found himself overcome by insurmountable fury, the blast from his wail shattering the illusion before him as Desiree was slammed roughly into the wall behind her with such force that it began to shatter, deep cracks growing outwards from where she had impacted its surface. If Phantom had thought himself livid before, it paled in comparison to the ferocity of his current wrath. She flinched, trembling as he approached her, his fists unthinkingly erupting in emerald flames.

_Ember_. His conscience reminded him as he noticed the spectral flames that she had taught him to use what seemed like eons ago. _If nothing else, I must endure for her sake._

"If you value your existence," the reluctant General snarled, his voice dangerously low. "You will take your leave now. I have no need for a cheap whore."

"Is everything alright my Lord?" Ember queried tentatively out as she entered the General's bedchamber, her voice possessing a meek, subservient quality that she was quick to lose whenever they were alone. "I was told that you were not to be disturbed, but I thought I heard-" she stopped short in genuine surprise as she noticed a bloodied Desiree pinned against a wall before him, before her expression gave way to something unreadable, leaving Phantom with no idea if he was going to be berated or the butt of her amusement once they were in private.

"Shall I return later, Lord General?" the flame haired ghost demurred, her skirts spread wide in a curtsy.

"No," the white haired ghost enunciated curtly through gritted teeth as he released his hold on the battered concubine several feet off the ground. "She was just leaving."

"Yes, my Lord," Desiree acquiesced as she gathered herself off the floor, eager to take her leave.

"_Quickly_," Phantom snarled, and Ember raised an eyebrow as Desiree recoiled, fear etched into the lines of her lovely features. "Before I change my mind."

"What was that all about?" his friend queried wryly, once she was certain that the courtesan was out of earshot. "Although I suppose that that's one way to build a reputation."

"Later," the white haired ghost replied wearily, sinking into the ornate, high backed armchair as he poured himself a generous measure of liquor from the pitcher that had been set before him. If Ember wasn't going to demand an explanation, he wasn't going to provide one just yet.

"You should really stop drinking that stuff, dipstick," Ember chided in annoyance. "You've never been able to hold your drink. When I stopped off in the human realm I picked up something that's probably a lot better for you," she made a face. "Or at least the lesser of two evils."

"Coffee?" he questioned hopefully.

"I got you some food too," she quipped, setting a brown paper bag down before him. "I trust you don't need me to tell you to be discreet. And yes," she added, exasperation crossing her features. "There's coffee in there."

The flame haired ghost sighed softly, as she waited for the monosyllabic query that, like clockwork, never failed to leave Phantom's lips.

"Sam?" he whispered, his goblet held in a vice like grip as he nursed the potent liquor.

"She's fine," Ember assured, brushing blue locks from her face. "Which is a miracle in itself. Your little girlfriend's been becoming more and more reckless lately. If she carries on like this, it won't be much longer before the Night Police finish her off."

"She despises me," he stated morosely, reaching for the pitcher on the table.

"She does," his best friend conceded, eliciting a soft snort from the white haired ghost. Ember had never been one to sugar coat the truth. "Have you ever considered that it's not worth beating yourself up over a mere human girl who wants you dead?"

"She thinks that I've betrayed her," Phantom growled, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recalled Desiree's illusion. "And her reasons are justified- I am just as much as a monster as she perceives me to be."

"You are _no monster_," Ember replied sharply, her eyes hardening as the white haired ghost averted his gaze. "Phantom, _look at me_. You made Sam no promises, right from the start. I know the situation is impossible but for now, we're left with no choice other than to bide our time."

"I cannot stand by and do nothing, Ember," Phantom roared, his eyes flaring deathly green.

"Then what do you suggest you do?" the flame haired ghost demanded, hot, angry tears forming at the corners of her green eyes. "Challenge the King? While he dons both the crown and the ring, you wouldn't last a minute against him. In another decade, maybe we'll have a chance. But for now, it's suicide."

"It's my life against a thousand others," the General parried, the rage in his words resounding throughout his chambers more acutely than the clashing of steel. "What other choice do I have?" Phantom whispered bitterly. "The longer we wait, the more humans innocent die by my hand," the white haired ghost hissed. "Pariah has made me a murderer."

"Innocents like me?" Ember queried, her voice dangerously low. "Have you forgotten that unlike you, Phantom, I was once human? I don't need your pity; death has made me no worse off."

"Not everyone is as tough as you are, Ember," the white haired ghost shook his head in half hearted amusement wrought from sheer despair.

"You'll be surprised at how resourceful they can be," she retorted dryly. "Humans are more resilient than vermin when it comes to survival."

"I'm sorry," Phantom apologised as he gently scrubbed a stray tear from Ember's cheek, remorse evident. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You can't die dipstick," she breathed, the corners of her dark lips quirking upwards in the beginnings of a smile as she hugged him fiercely. "I won't let you. But if you ever bring this up again before you're ready, I'll kill you myself."

"But what if Pariah discovers what I truly am before I gain the strength to oppose him?" the white haired ghost questioned. "What then?"

"If the King realises the extent to which I defied him that night, twenty years ago," Ember stated softly, resignation evident. "Then we both die."

-

"You know," Tucker jested. "I really ought to invent some form of weapon that doubles up as a rubix cube for you two to amuse yourselves with when you get bored of skulking in dark corners while waiting for it to be safe to head home."

"Or how about some form of teleportation device that gets us back to headquarters quicker," Sam joked back, as she and Valerie sat huddled in an alley off Amity high street. "We wouldn't need a rubix cube with you around to amuse us."

Sam laughed as Valerie rolled her eyes at her partner, exasperated that she was encouraging Tucker's incessant chatter.

"I'm honoured that you still find me amusing," their tech operative replied with mock solemnity. "And here I was thinking that I'd exhausted reading to you every joke book in my proud collection."

"What makes you think that you haven't?" Valerie's reply was droll, and Sam was forcibly reminded of her friend's mentor, Vlad.

"Guys," Tucker abruptly warned them, all traces of humour leaving his voice. "Lay low."

Maddie's apprentice's senses were immediately on edge as she noted the careful gait of a pair of footsteps approaching as its owner crossed the high street. She frowned, perturbed by Tucker's warning. The enemy's movements were usually soundless- the footsteps belonged to a human. Although he or she was definitely not of the Brotherhood, judging from the lack of stealth required to minimise the advertisement of his or her presence, ordinary humans presented a minimal threat.

"Oh come on," Valerie swore, letting loose a string of profanities under her breath as the young man came into view. "You've got to be joking. What's that idiot doing out after curfew?"

"It's just a citizen, Tucker," Sam added, bemused. "He's not going to find us even if he tries."

"It's not him I'm worried about," their tech operative's reply was grim. "He's being followed by a member of Pariah's troops."

An icy chill shot down the back of Sam's neck, continuing its shuddering passage down her spine as she fought to reject the fear and cruel memories invoked. The only two times that the ghost hunter had ever encountered the Night Police, she had been completely and utterly overwhelmed, to the extent that Phantom had been forced to come to her rescue on both occasions. But things were different now, she told herself fiercely as they waited for the spectre's inevitable attack on the boy. She would never allow herself to defer to the Ghost King's troops; never again.

"Going somewhere?" the apparition rasped, materialising in front of the thin blond wandering the streets, and Valerie groaned in quiet despair as the young man was struck across the face with such brutality that he fell to the ground, crumpled and dazed from the blow.

"We have to help him," Sam declared, the calm assertion in her tone causing Valerie to sneak a glance at her in surprise. The content of Sam's statement aside, she might as well have suggested that they take a stroll in the park at noon the next day.

"Have you lost your mind? He's part of the Night Police," Tucker's words were fast and frantic. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time you were up against of them?"

How could she forget? Sam's lithe form shook with bitter mirth, catching Tucker's unspoken sentiment, the words her best friend didn't dare to utter were clear as day in the silence between them. _This time, there's no Phantom to save you._

"Believe me," the ghost hunter gritted her teeth. "I'm trying to forget."

"Then what are you waiting for?" her tech operative demanded. "Get out of there."

"Third time lucky?" Maddie's apprentice fought to keep her voice light.

"My ass," Tucker snapped. "Get out of there before both of you get killed."

"But this different," Sam growled. "there were five last time, and one of them was ranked lieutenant. So believe me when I say that I can take _one_ of them."

"Maybe," Tucker conceded reluctantly. "But as your techie, it's part of my job to place less faith in your capabilities than you do. And as a friend, I'm currently being forced to question my faith in your sanity."

"You're unbelievable," the lavender eyed girl raged, whispering as loudly as she dared to without alerting the member of the Night Police to her presence. "The enemy is _toying_ with that boy's life."

"He's as good as dead anyway," Tucker argued fiercely. "Think you can get to him in the time it's going to take the enemy to disembowel him once he notices you?"

"Yes," Sam said stubbornly. "I can."

"Head back," their tech operative demanded. "Both of you, cut your losses and head back _now_."

"How are you going to stop me?" the ghost hunter challenged. "You're sitting miles away, cosy in Lancer's little tech room."

"Sam, _no_," Tucker yelled. It was becoming increasingly clear that Sam was going to disregard him completely. "Are you _insane_? Trying to take on the Night Police ordinarily is bad enough, but to attempt it at _this_ stage in the lunar cycle? You take one step in the enemy's direction and I'm going to be forced to report your actions to Maddie."

"Shut up and let me do my job," Sam replied coolly as she flicked at the microphone on her communicator, ignoring Tucker's cry of shock and annoyance at the assault on his hearing.

"_Valerie_," their tech operative pleaded his other team member, who Tucker was perturbed to realise had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. "Restrain her. She's going to get you both killed."

"No," Valerie Gray replied softly, as she sought eye contact with her partner, giving Sam's free hand a reassuring squeeze. "I won't. Last time, I was too much of a coward to stay. I'm never abandoning you again, for better or for worse."

"Thanks, Val," Maddie's apprentice acquiesced as she gripped her partner's hand tightly in return. "I appreciate this."

"What's wrong with both of you?" Tucker demanded hotly. "Haven't either of you learned what happens when you go up against the Night Police?"

"But that's exactly it," Vlad's apprentice argued. "We _have_ learned since then. That was six months ago. We're now faster, stronger, more experienced. The older members are capable of taking on the Night Police. It's about time we learned to do the same."

"So what do you propose we do?" Sam queried, quirking an eyebrow at her partner in mordant anticipation.

"Like we've been left with any choice," her partner snorted softly. "I take it that you're going to want to be the distraction?"

Maddie's apprentice favoured Valerie with a curt nod, her ghost gauntlets assembling themselves to her fingertips.

"And Sam?" her partner whispered imploringly, as Sam stepped out of the shadows to make her presence known to the enemy. "Please be careful."

The Night Police stiffened as he sensed Sam's presence, hesitating momentarily before turning to face the ghost hunter, providing her with the opening she needed, flinging a ray of artificially generated spectral energy at the enemy. The ghost snarled as it was flung away from its victim by the force of the blow to its left shoulder, spinning almost a complete circle in recoil before it fell to its knees.

"_You_," the spectre managed out, minor injuries momentarily becoming a secondary concern once he took note of Sam's features. "_You can't still be alive."_

"I think you'll find that I can," the ghost hunter replied grimly, taking advantage of the enemy's surprise to pepper the ground with ecto-grenades. She lunged towards him as they detonated, unaffected by the species-specific explosives.

A gutteral groan of pain alerted Sam to her opponent's location in the haze, her left hand clutching her right in order to enhance her aim as she fired on instinct, a violent obscenity leaving her lips when she realised that the Night Police had managed to evade her attack.

The dust was now beginning to clear, and Sam noticed with no little relief that her partner had managed to make it to the young man and was now standing between him and the enemy, shielding him from further harm. The blond boy had managed to sit up, despite the dark, sticky blood streaking the right side of his face, but Sam had her doubts if her partner had even noticed the improvement in his circumstances. Valerie's eyes were trained on the engagement taking place before her, her weight resting softly on the balls of her feet as she readied herself to step in and aid Sam in the event that the situation turning ugly.

"This is impossible," their enemy growled in denial, dragging himself away from Sam as the first tendrils of regenerative energy wisped and curled at the base of the stumps where the ghost's legs used to be. "My liege slew you _himself_. The General made an example of your execution the first night he entered the human realm. I was there _with him_," a note of pride entered the the Night Police's voice as he sought to justify his claims. "I was there when you groveled before him like the worthless mortal that you are. T-this is no more than some pathetic human trick. You _cannot_ still be alive."

"Who's the worthless one now?" Sam hissed, black fury erupting within her as she advanced upon him. How _dare_ the General garner such fear and adoration from those that he had once claimed to disdain. Phantom was nothing more than a liar and a coward, undeserving of the mindless respect of even the monstrous scum before her. She could no longer deny it; she had been stupid to even try. _This_ was what he had wanted all along- to be seen as a demon by the demons themselves.

"Tell me, are your numbers dwindling to the extent that the rebels are being forced to clone themselves now?" the humanoid spectre bared rows of needle-like teeth in mockery. "Surely, that must be the only explanation. For General Phantom is as infallible as he is fearless. Under his leadership, we will finally crush your piddling attempts at resistance and conquer this god forsaken city in the King's name."

"Your precious _General Phantom_ is scarce more than a liar and a coward," Sam spat. "You know _nothing_ about him."

The Night Police blinked, meeting Sam's vehemence with mild confusion. "I can see why the Lord General derived such enjoyment from breaking you," his rubbery lips stretched in a grin. "Perhaps I should capture you and present you as a gift from my squadron. How could I deny my master the opportunity to kill you again? _General Phantom_-"

Sam started violently as her assailant's next words were twisted into a grating inhuman shriek as a second onslaught of explosives battered his form. Amidst the blasts, the ghost hunter's honed ears managed to pick up the familiar pitch of an ecto-blaster being rapidly discharged, a large proportion of the shots firing true.

"Sorry," Valerie smirked, her weapon still smoking as the Night Police crumbled to dust before them. "But he was getting to be rather repetitive conversation. I'm curious though," she added, a look of concern flickering across her face as she regarded Sam. "Were you actually going to let him trade insults with you until he had fully regenerated his injuries?"

"I could've handled him," Sam provided gruffly, fervently wishing the ghost hadn't been slain with Phantom's name on his lips.

"_I'm sure you could've_," even down the communicator, Tucker's voice was sarcastic and cold, but Sam chose to ignore the pang at his words.

"Can you stand?" Val offered, extending a hand to help the rescued boy onto his feet.

"So the stories are true," the young man whispered fervently, his gaze darting between Valerie and Sam. "The Brotherhood is more than just urban legend."

"Get off the streets," Vlad's apprentice advised kindly. "It isn't worth forfeiting your life just to defy the Empire's curfew."

"_T-thank you_," he stuttered in reply, gazing at the pair of girls with nothing short of reverence. But to Sam, the look of wonderment in his eyes appeared frighteningly similar to the fever that had overtaken the member of the Night Police when he spoke of the Ghost General.

"You never saw anything," Maddie's apprentice stated curtly as she turned to leave, the sharp edge of her voice cutting through the dismal silence of the night. It hadn't been been a plea for discretion on the Brotherhood girl's part. It had been a command.

"I liked him," Valerie stated lightly, as caught up with her partner. "He had spunk."

"Not enough of it," the ghost hunter bit out, fully aware that their tech operative was listening in on the conversation. "But he's definitely got more balls than Tucker has."

"I can't believe I'm agreeing with Tucker," Valerie conceded reluctantly, concern etched on her countenance. "But just because I'm sticking by you doesn't mean I'm not worried about you. I know that I'm normally the one that makes the reckless decisions but tell me," her best friend queried softly. "Is Phantom really worth pushing yourself to the point of suicide?"

To which, Sam had no reply.

-

**A/N:** I'm sorry that this was such a long time coming. But if it's any consolation, I'm back for good for at least the next year. This chapter has always had me perplexed, even before I had to put everything on hold for exams. Still, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope that I haven't let my writing go in my long absence!

I'm pretty sure that I've replied to all your lovely reviews, but if I haven't, let me know and I'll reply asap.

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	15. Transitions

_For the evil bitch who forced me to write this._

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 14**

**Transitions**

Sam exhaled sharply, willing her fatigued eyes to stay open just a while longer as she trudged along the sidewalk, just enough for her to get home in one piece after patrol. Under normal circumstances, the ghost hunter would've just stayed at headquarters, but after her exchange with Tucker the previous night, Sam just needed to get away.

Typically, the ghost hunter spent as little time as possible in her own home, choosing instead to bunk in her small room at the Brotherhood headquarters. She preferred to be close to Maddie, should their leader ever require her services. Madeline Fenton was much more a mother to the ghost hunter than Pamela Manson could ever hope to be.

Valerie too spent most of her time at headquarters. Unlike Sam's parents, Damon Gray was outspoken in his hatred towards the empire, and seemed to fully endorse Valerie in her endeavors against their oppressors. Although Damon's right eye had been blinded in the field more than a decade ago, he continued to serve the brotherhood by training the majority of its new members. Despite herself, Sam could never help feeling envious of Valerie's father's support.

Sam had been compelled on several occasions to simply move out, but a strange sense of honour kept her anchored to the vast building that she had never considered her home, lest her parents ever require her protection. In a way, the ghost hunter was glad for the size of her house. Jeremy and Pamela Manson never realised if she was out after the Empire's curfew.

Her parents' behavior regarding Amity's occupation disgusted Sam. They were nothing more than docile, perfect citizens of the Empire, who would pale at the mere thought of defying the ghosts. Her parents seemed to believe that if they kept their head down and stayed out of their occupant's way, Pariah would reward them eventually. Sam snorted. As if that would ever happen.

"Sam," Jazz called out, catching up with her as she crossed the street.

"Jazz," the ghost hunter replied in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Sad as it was, this was one of the few times that Sam had ever seen any of her comrades whilst the sun was out, much less in normal clothes. Their duties to Amity Park left them all far too exhausted to even consider some semblance of normal life. The morning sunshine streaked through her friend's auburn hair, seemingly setting the copper locks aflame. Jazz was a creature of sunlight, the Goth decided unexpectedly. The war had wrought her into something that she was never meant to be. What none of them were ever meant to be.

"We need to talk," Jazz stated shortly, the redhead's statement abruptly jarred Sam into full alertness. "I'm worried about you. We all are."

"Tucker put you up to this, didn't he?" Sam scowled. "How much has he told you?"

It wasn't that the ghost hunter didn't trust her mentor's daughter. Sam trusted Jazz implicitly; she knew that Jazz would never reveal her secrets to anyone, much less the council. But the one thing that she couldn't rely on Lancer's former apprentice not to do was worry about her needlessly. She was a rebel opposing occupation by the Empire, for god's sakes. Her life had become fraught with risk the moment she had accepted their leader's apprenticeship.

But what Sam feared from her friend was disapproval. Or worse, for Jazz to impress upon the ghost hunter her immense disbelief that she had been stupid enough to try and enlist the services of the demon currently running Pariah Dark's armies, against her team mates' warnings. Phantom was singularly the most shameful ordeal that Sam had ever endured. She had trusted him, and he had humiliated her in return. It had been beyond foolishness on her part to ever expect anything else, and clever, thoughtful Jazz was sufficiently similar to her mother that any judgment that she passed upon Sam would be sufficient to utterly humiliate her.

"I know everything, Sam," Jazz clarified. "I know how recklessly you've been behaving lately on patrol, to such an extent that Tuck actually had to threaten to rat you out to Mom if you didn't listen to his advice. Even if your own life means nothing to you, it means something to us," she finished firmly, in a tone that left no room for argument. "Now, we're going to sit down and talk this through, whether you like it or not. Because if you're not going to let us in, you're going to leave me no choice but to actually tell Mom what's going on with you."

"That threat is getting old fast," the ghost hunter subjected her friend to a glare of glacial standards, silently unsure if she should weep, or laugh in relief at the fact that Tucker had refrained from telling Jazz the whole truth. "If either of you had the guts to do it, you would've by now."

"We're only doing this because we care about you," Jazz's gaze softened. "We're your friends. Did you really expect us to react otherwise? Even _Valerie's_ worried about you," her expression turned wry. "That's quite a feat."

"Sorry," Sam muttered. "That was out of line."

"That's okay," Jazz replied, her smile returning. "But please, explain to me why you're suddenly acting as though you've desperately got something to prove. I know that Vlad's pitting Valerie against you for leadership, but nothing's going to happen on that front for a long time."

"Leadership has nothing to do with it," Sam shook her head. "I just don't want to be seen as a failure, that's all."

_And to atone for dooming my brethren_, she added bitterly to herself. _I am as much a coward as Phantom is for not confessing._

"_Sam_," Jazz sighed, sitting on the cracked pavement that badly needed a new coat of cement, a luxury that the occupied city could not afford. "Mom's incredibly proud of you already, and nothing is ever going to change that fact. She chose to train you, and she has never once regretted her decision. You're like another daughter to her. Don't you know that?"

"But me and Valerie are never going to improve unless we challenge ourselves," Sam argued, joining her on the floor. "And that involves taking risks."

"But that's where Tucker comes in," their leader's daughter pointed out gently. "There's a difference between calculated risk and suicide. He _knows_ you. Let him make the levelheaded decisions. It's what _he's_ been trained to do."

"I know you're right," the ghost hunter conceded grudgingly. "I'm going to have to apologise to Tucker now, aren't I?" she groaned. "He's not going to let me live this down."

"Come on," Jazz laughed. "Let's get you back to headquarters. I'm pretty sure that Mom's baked cookies."

-

"I'm surprised to hear that your partner is doing half as well as you say she is," Vlad conceded airily, as he buried his hand deeper into the soft, dark curls of Valerie's hair, eliciting a soft sigh of contentment from the apprentice knelt before him.

"Sam's just mostly confused and angry," Valerie supplied, as her brows furrowed in a frown. "She blames herself for our brethren's current situation. "She thinks that if she'd died that night six months ago, none of this would've ever happened."

"Egotistical, isn't she?" her mentor kicked up an eyebrow. "To think that she has single-handedly caused Amity Park's plight."

"Sam's anything but," the ghost hunter protested, leaning her head against his lap as she regarded him. "She's one of the most sensible people I know."

"Because we know so many," the corner of Vlad's lips tugged into a grin. "The epitome of sociability, we rebels are."

The statement earned a soft laugh from his apprentice, as she broke eye contact, resting her cheek against him. "Maybe," the dark haired girl murmured. "But I'd never have it any other way. Would you?"

Vlad regarded the woman before him, and found himself filled with deep affection towards her. Having invested nearly a decade of his time and effort in her, the council member could gladly say that he was proud of the outcome. Perhaps his peers were right- Valerie was far too dependent on him for independent thought. But if he lived long enough to mold her sufficiently into his image, their brethren would have naught to worry about.

"I suppose you're right," the billionaire feigned gruffness, choosing to reply to the literal question that his apprentice had asked, as opposed to the true query they both knew that she had posed. "Looks like you're stuck with me. Fancy that."

"It could be worse," Valerie giggled, unstung by her lover's verbal evasion. Vlad had made no promises, right from the start.

The billionaire had painstakingly laid down the ground rules regarding their rather _unique_ situation, but he was well aware that knowingly fueling her infatuation certainly wasn't helping the situation any. While he wasn't encouraging her endeavours, he had certainly ceased discouraging her somewhere along the way.

Well, Vlad supposed, lazily tucking a stray curl behind his apprentice's ear as the pair allowed the next few moments to pass in companiable silence, he could've done far worse in terms of lovers.

"Valerie."

"Mmm?" Vlad's apprentice replied, pointedly ignoring the chiding tone that Vlad's voice had adopted.

"Are you certain that I cannot convince you to join me on the sofa? You've been kneeling for at least a good half hour." Initially, Vlad had found it hard to believe that his stubborn and prideful apprentice would demean herself in such a manner before anyone, much less himself, but it was an act of deference that he had rather come to enjoy.

"No," Valerie quipped. "I'm good. But Vlad?" she ventured, faltering.

"Yes?" her mentor's interest was piqued by her hesitant tone.

"I know that I'm meant to be happy that Sam's been making all these mistakes, but I just can't bring myself to be," Valerie confessed. "She's my best friend, and I know that beyond everything else, she's hurting. And pitting myself against her is only going to make matters worse."

"A worthy opponent should relish the competition," Vlad noted. "If she is unable to cope, then she is clearly incapable of leading the Brotherhood."

"But Sam _is_ capable," his apprentice insisted, all traces of languor leaving her features as she sat upright. "It's not her fault her torn up she's become over the whole Phantom situation."

"And why not?" the council member voiced his curiosity as he regarded his apprentice. "Is there any particular reason why she's taking General Phantom's ascension in Pariah's favour so bitterly?"

Vlad watched as indecision flickered across his apprentice's face. She was obviously torn between having been sworn to secrecy by her partner, and her loyalty towards him. A part of the billionaire was tempted to let her have her secrets, but if Valerie knew something, it was imperative that she informed him. Rivalry regarding the next leader of the Brotherhood was one thing, but their survival was a far more pressing priority altogether. The council could not afford for information regarding the new Ghost General to be withheld from them.

"She was more attached to him than what I would consider healthy," Valerie replied at length.

Vlad hid his astonishment with great skill.

"And how attached would that be?" the tone of his voice left no room for misinterpretation.

"God, no," Valerie blanched. "Sam would never."

"Well, he's hardly the sort that one keeps as a pet," Vlad commented dryly. "Far too intelligent, for a start. Not to mention dangerous."

"Sam was just convinced that he was different," his apprentice sighed. "That because he saved her, there was good in him," Valerie shook her head. "We tried telling her that Phantom only did it in order to challenge the Fright Knight, to further his own goals. But she was so sure," her lips quirked into a bitter smile. "So sure that I almost believed her myself."

"But the fundamental question still remains," the billionaire voiced. "Why did he allow her to live?"

"I don't know," Valerie shook her head. "He could've killed her whenever he felt like it. And why did he ever bother earning her trust in the first place? He didn't need it to gain power."

"Something tells me that you haven't been completely honest with me," Vlad speculated, subjecting his apprentice with a significant look.

"I have," Valerie coloured, flinching.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," the council member elucidated smoothly. "Doubtlessly, Samantha has sworn you to secrecy. But if you have any information regarding Phantom, you'd best let me know. I cannot allow you to withhold such knowledge from me. The future of our brethren could be at stake."

"If I tell you," the dark haired girl hesitated. "Promise me that you'll keep in mind that Sam only did what she thought was in the Brotherhood's best interests, and in the grand scheme of things it probably wouldn't have made any difference."

"I don't like the sound of this," silver eyebrows descended as his brow furrowed.

"Vlad," Valerie pleaded. "Promise me that this isn't going to go any further. This can never reach Maddie's ears. She'll disown Sam."

"Surely that'll be in our interests," Vlad commented dryly.

"No," she scowled. "To be honest, I think she'll make a better leader than I would."

"It's still early days," Vlad replied. "But if Samantha's being half as reckless as you say she is, she certainly isn't coping well under pressure," he noted.

"I wouldn't either," his apprentice whispered, grief at her best friend's plight evident. "Not after what she's been through."

"You're stalling," the council member drawled. "You have information pertaining to Phantom. I require it."

"Can you assure me that Sam will face no disciplinary action?" Valerie held Vlad's gaze despite his look of disapproval. "Please?" she whispered. "She's been through enough."

"Very well," Vlad conceded reluctantly. "I will not breathe word to another soul. If I decide that this information is important, I will find other methods of dealing with it myself."

"Thank you," Valerie sighed. "It's so stupid. After all that's happened, there really isn't very much to tell."

"We might as well be civilised about this," her mentor shook his head, shifting over to make room for the ghost hunter. "Come and sit on the sofa, for god's sakes."

-

"Forgive me, my King," Phantom demurred as he swept into Pariah Dark's war chamber. "Your previous directions were slightly more difficult to accomplish than I had initially assumed."

The white haired ghost knelt before his liege, kissing the ring on his outstretched hand. Even when the Ghost King was at ease, Phantom had to will himself not to retch and withdraw from his master, as he found himself overcome by the sheer spectral energy encompassed in the King's form. Beside him, it was like attributing the rift between their differences in abilities as one would compare the destructive power of a lighted match of that to a blazing forest fire.

"Rise, General Phantom," Pariah snarled."But ensure that it does not happen again."

"Of course, my King," the white haired ghost replied readily, rising.

"The destrier, Arion," the King stated, unexpectedly redirecting the conversation to more pleasant grounds. "He is able to meet your needs?"

"He exceeds, them, my King," Phantom assured Pariah. "You honour me by bestowing him upon one as untried as myself."

"You would not be untried if you hadn't chosen to hide from the Empire for centuries," the Ghost King's voice emanated wrath. "Further acts of cowardice will not be tolerated."

"I understand, my liege," the General replied, unhesitant. "My purpose of existence is to serve you."

"We shall see," Pariah grunted, "and the concubine, Desiree," his expression gave way to one of amusement. "I hear that she displeases you. Do you require her replaced?"

"I assure you, my Lord," Phantom bowed his head. "Ember is more than sufficient to meet my needs. I am content."

Needless to say, both men knew that the only reason that the Ghost King was offering to replace Desiree was because in dismissing the courtesan, Phantom had effectively rid Pariah of a major spy in the white haired ghost's court. There were doubtlessly spies amongst other members of Phantom's household, although they would now be sufficiently fewer in number since that Phantom had released a fair number of slaves from his service. However, it had been an act wrought from sheer irritation on the General's part at their constant presence, as opposed to fear of subterfuge.

"Nevertheless, you have dispensed nearly half of your predecessor's servants from your holding," Pariah noted. "Explain yourself."

"My liege has been too generous," Phantom's lips quirked upwards in a smirk as he thought of his rival. "A true warrior is unaccustomed to luxury."

The Ghost King laughed uproariously at his reply. "Very good, my General," the Ring of Rage glinted on his finger as Pariah slapped his thigh in mirth, and Phantom allowed the fleeting, reckless thought of snatching it to cross his mind. Not that he'd ever bring himself to dare, at least not while Ember's safety hung in the balance.

Pariah steepled his fingers. "Perhaps I have been unduly arrogant, insistent on a geographical approach regarding Amity Park. But perhaps I should allow your enlistment to signal the beginning of changes to come."

"My Lord," Phantom replied, unable to repress his unadulterated terror as he realised the implications of the King's statement, "I am not sure that I follow."

"Do you not?" Pariah Dark scowled, and the white haired ghost had to fight to stop himself from recoiling in dread. "This surprises me, Phantom. This is the first instance in which you have failed to impress me."

"I am wary of assumptions, my Lord," the General excused himself.

"So you _do_ understand," the King's lips stretched into a feral grin. "Enlighten me, General. What do you think that I intend to do?"

"You mean to send troops beyond Amity Park, occupying land at its outskirts," Phantom hesitated. "Without access to food or additional supplies, you intend to starve the rebels out."

Pariah bared his teeth, nodding once in rare approval. "Very,_ very_ good, my General. Replacing that incompetent buffoon with you was the best decision that I have made all century."

"Thank you my liege," Phantom retorted softly, quietly amazed that the Ghost King was unable to detect the way that his insides were screaming Sam's name, over and over like some twisted mantra. "You honour me greatly."

"So," Pariah Dark burred. "Now that you know of my plans for the future, what say you, General Phantom?"

"The plan is a good one," the white haired ghost replied finally, careful to disguise his abject despair. "But the war is ours anyway, my lord. It is only a matter of time until the rebels fall. I do not see why you do not choose to allow yourself this measure of pride. The Empire that you have built is infallible; there is no arrogance in toying with unworthy adversaries such as the Brotherhood."

"Perhaps," the King did not appear to be giving his suggestion any true thought. "A minor inconvenience as they are, I have spared the rebels my wrath for near a thousand years, far more than the wretched scum deserve. Although, I suppose that I could take the city by force, once and for all," he mused out loud.

"_No_," Phantom interjected, chills shooting down his spine as he realised that he had spoken too soon, resulting in Pariah subjecting him to a dirty look. "Your original plan was wisest, my Lord," he continued, in an effort to dampen the Ghost King's suspicion. "I never should have challenged your decision. What is needed most is for you to destroy their hope."

"Continue," Pariah ordered, his interest aroused.

"After all, even if you were to overwhelm the rebels upfront, the last thing we desire is for word of their chivalry and defiance in death to spread, igniting further rebellion amongst the common folk," the General grimaced. "As it stands, the humans are unaware that they have defenders, no matter how feeble their efforts. A revolution would be most inconvenient."

"Very well," the bloodthirsty expression that Phantom had come to know too well returned. "I will accept your advice and refrain from storming the city."

"I will not make you regret your decision, my King," the white haired ghost could've wept in relief. At least he had managed to buy Sam time. Perhaps time enough to convince her once and for all to leave Amity.

"You'd better not," Pariah growled. "You may take your leave, General," he grunted. "Your counsel has proved most valuable."

"Thank you, my King," Phantom forced himself to remain composed, sinking into a deep bow, the General's mantle brushing the floor as he paid his respects. Despite its frequency, leaving Pariah Dark's presence always left the General expecting a fatal blast between his shoulder blades.

"Until my liege next requires me," he turned to leave, resisting the violent urge to flee to the human realm, track down Sam and forcibly teleport her from Amity, to somewhere, _anywhere_ where the Empire would never reach her.

But there was still time, he breathed, calming himself. The Ghost King's troops would not move until _he_ gave the order. If he could delay invading the cities surrounding Amity, Sam would be bestowed a narrow window of escape. _If_ he could convince her to believe him.

Abruptly, the white haired ghost blinked, surprised to spot Princess Dorethea and her honour guard beyond the curtain wall. Prince Aragon's sister appeared brimming with righteous fury, bright spots colouring her pale green complexion.

He had encountered Pariah's ally's younger sister on several occasions in the past, but never without Aragon himself present. It was widely known that Aragon had ceded his kingdom in exchange for a place of honour at the Ghost King's side, an act that had lost him the loyalty of his nation. It was a lesser known fact that Dorethea had opposed the dealings. But that was centuries ago, Phantom reminded himself. The Princess' stance regarding the war could have long since changed.

"Lord General," Dorethea acquiesced, as they approached.

"Princess," Phantom responded in kind, kissing her hand as protocol dictated. "This is indeed a surprise," he quirked a white eyebrow at the woman before him. "What brings you here without your brother?"

"I am here to demand an audience with the King," the Princess drew herself up to her full height. "One of us has to ensure that our people do not starve."

"Why did you choose to appear without Prince Aragon?" the General frowned, puzzled. "Surely the word of a warlord at your side would help strengthen your case."

"Brother's… priorities differ significantly from that of mine," the medieval Princess did not look quite so elegant whilst scowling, clutching at fistfuls of her skirts.

"You disagree with your brother often?" Phantom conjectured.

"It is a family matter," she replied stiffly, "one which is none of your business, General."

"Forgive me, Highness," the white haired ghost subjected the Princess to her rightful honorific, despite the fact that they both knew that she held no real power, and that Phantom was by far her superior. He could probably insult her to her face, and her guard would do nothing to prevent him. "I did not mean to intrude," he bowed low to erase any doubts in her mind that he had used the term of respect as mockery.

"You're a strange one, General Phantom," Dorethea's voice softened slightly as she regarded him with curiosity.

"I could say the same about you," the General's tone was wry in return.

"Good day, General," she enunciated coolly, taking her escort's arm as they parted ways.

"Good day, Princess," Phantom frowned, perturbed as he surveyed Aragon's sister's retreating figure. If the uncertain feeling in the pit of his gut was anything to go by, Princess Dorethea wasn't quite done with him just yet.

-

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the wait! I hope that you've enjoyed the latest installment:D If it's any consolation, I've already started working on the next chapter, so with luck the next update won't take as long.

Concrit appreciated, as always. Do let me know what you think about the newest developments!:)

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted Creampuff**


	16. Intrigue

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 15**

**Intrigue**

"How did the audience with the King go?" Ember questioned hesitatingly as Phantom entered his chambers, violently kicking off his boots onto the dark woven carpet.

"Pariah intends to invade lands on the outskirts of Amity and starve the rebels out of food and supplies," the white haired ghost replied shortly, as he collapsed into a high-backed armchair near his bureau.

"_No_," Ember breathed in disbelief, as she grabbed at a piece of furniture to stop her legs giving way.

"I couldn't persuade him to change his mind," Phantom whispered bitterly. "Not without arousing his suspicion."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're not responsible for any of this?" the blue haired ghost shook her head. "You're just doing what's necessary for survival, nothing more, and- _what are you doing?_" she questioned curiously, as Phantom proceeded to retrieve a quill from his inkwell, pressing its tip to the thick, scented paper of his foolscap.

"Contacting the other warlords," the General gritted his teeth. "They need to begin preparations in order to cater to my Liege's plans."

"Can't this wait till later?" Ember protested. "You're obviously not calm, I can see it. And the last thing we can afford is for you to let something slip to your enemies on paper in your carelessness-"

"I'm _fine_," Phantom roared.

"No, you're not. You need to rest," the female ghost insisted fiercely, refusing to relent despite the warning signs as her best friend's shoulders stiffened dangerously. "Pariah's already working you to the ground without you making life even more difficult for yourself. Now put that quill down or I'm going to make you."

For a few moments, the white haired ghost appeared to be truly frozen, save for the quill that was shaking from the strength of his vice-like grip. Abruptly, the General grunted, uttering a string of violent profanities before he flung the writing instrument to the side in aggression, roughly tearing the beginnings of his military letter into ribbons.

"I need to find Sam," Phantom uttered haltingly, at length. "To warn her, before it's too late."

"It's too dangerous," Ember planted her fists on her hips in a manner akin to striking a battle stance. "One wrong move could ruin everything we've ever worked to achieve. And the Ghost King isn't going to look kindly on traitors. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that he hasn't seen right through us, dipstick? You go looking for her, and we're as good as dead."

"I'll find a way," he insisted stubbornly. "I have to. With luck, they won't even notice that I'm gone."

"And how the _hell_ are you going to manage that?" his best friend demanded fiercely, her eyes flashing magenta. "You're the _Lord General Phantom_, at the Ghost King's right hand. All eyes are on you. You take one step out of the Ghost Zone, and every spectre in Amity is going to sense your presence."

"But what if I were to mask my power?" the white haired ghost breathed. "The Night Police can't sense what isn't there. If I were to seek Sam out in my other form-"

"You tried that before," Ember retorted coolly, her nails digging into her forearms as she folded her arms. "It didn't work. Sam wanted nothing to do with your human half. What makes you think that she'd believe you, this time?"

"I have to at least _try_," Phantom hissed. "If she dies, the entire Brotherhood dies, Ember. Including your old partner. And you can pretend like you don't give a shit about them anymore, but we both know that you're lying to yourself."

"I do care," the flamed haired pyrokine snorted. "I just happen to care more about keeping you alive. I know suicide when I see it."

"Then find her for me," the General pleaded in desperation. "Track her down, and warn her about what Pariah intends for the Brotherhood. Beg her if you must, promise her _anything_, so long as she agrees to leave Amity Park for good."

"You're obsessed with her," Ember bit out the words. "Do you know that?"

"_Please_," Phantom implored. "Do this, for me. You said it yourself- if I were to go it would spell our ends. But the Empire believes you nothing more than my chambermaid. No one would notice if you were to go missing for a couple of hours."

A staring match ensued, and Ember failed to stifle a laugh that bubbled out in helpless despair at the look of pathetic, besotted determination on her best friend's face.

"Oh, god," the blue haired woman sighed, as she sunk onto the edge of his bed in near hysterical exasperation. "Come here, you idiot," she patted at the space beside her.

For the first time the entire evening, Phantom complied without complaint, as he obediently joined Ember on his bed, resting his head on her lap as she ran a soothing hand through his stark white hair for the first time in years, her fingers gently smoothing out any knots that she came across in his disheveled locks.

"You haven't left me with very much choice, have you?" she grunted, disgruntled by his tenacity.

"I'm sorry," Phantom's voice was muffled. "But my own choices are even more limited."

"Suppose I seek her out, and she once again refuses to heed your advice?" Ember questioned tentatively, as though she was afraid of his answer. "What then?"

"I don't want to think that far ahead," the General's eyes closed in anguish. "Not yet. Promise me you'll make her believe you."

"I can't promise that, dipstick," his best friend replied gently, as she ruffled his hair. "But I can promise to do my damndest to make sure that she listens."

The pair were interrupted by several crisps knocks of brass on oak coming from the exterior of the General's bedchamber. Cursing under his breath, Phantom jerked upright, the back of his head nearly colliding with Ember's chin in the process. "What could they possibly want this time?" he scowled, ignoring the dirty look on Ember's face regarding his previous clumsiness.

"We'll discuss this later," Ember sighed, running a hand through her own flaming locks in fatigue. "But right now, what do you think you're doing?" she demanded, as Phantom headed towards the heavy oak door to receive the culprit of their interruption. "The Lord General should never have to answer the door to his own chambers," she grimaced at Phantom's thoughtlessness, "even if he _is_ eccentric enough to dismiss half of his household."

"You're right, Ember, you always are," the white haired ghost held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"And yet, you always fail to listen to me," she grumbled, pushing herself to her feet. "Get back on your bed, stupid," she commanded irritably. "We have to at least pretend as though I have reason to be here."

Wordlessly, Phantom complied. He had to pick his battles with great care, especially when he had just won one so significant over Ember. He growled, disgusted at himself. He was already eternally indebted to his best friend, what right did he have to ever ask anything of her, no matter how insignificant? Phantom buried his face in his hands to allow himself one last indulgent moment of sordid self-pity before he shook his head to clear it. It was time, once again, to don the mask of pretence, he noted grimly, keeping his eyes trained on Ember's form as she swung open the great door.

"Princess Dorethea," Ember bobbed a curtsey in utter astonishment as the Midianne stood before her, licking her lips nervously as she clutched at fistfuls of her skirts.

"Princess," Phantom, too, found it unnecessary to feign surprise as he leaped upright from his previous position of forced languor. "What brings you here?"

"Forgive me," Dorethea flushed, as she surveyed the scene before her. "Am I interrupting?"

"I assure you, you are not," the white haired ghost sank into a low bow in acknowledgement. "Forgive me your Highness, this is most embarrassing on my part. Had I been notified of your arrival, I would have made the necessary arrangements to accommodate you."

"There is no need," loose blonde curls that had escaped the Princess' elaborate hairstyle bounced as she shook her head. "Truly, I do not intend to impose on your hospitality for long."

"Leave us," the General gestured absently at his best friend.

"As you wish, my Lord General," Ember curtsied, readily obeying.

Phantom inclined his head to Dorethea in greeting, puzzlement still etched on his features. "How may I be of service? And what has become your guards?"

"They remain in our castle, guarding the exterior of my chambers," the Princess' expression did not lose its gravity. "I will be brief, Lord General, for I do not have long until they discover that I am missing."

"How have you eluded them so far?" Phantom's curiosity was piqued.

"My brother is not the only member of our household that holds some measure of power," the Midianne clasped at the amulet between her breasts, as draconian features abruptly flickered across her lovely face.

"I was not aware that a second Amulet of Chaos existed," the white haired ghost fought not to betray his surprise.

"Not many are," Dorethea's reply was droll, "Brother is hardly keen to advertise the fact that I am his equal in power."

"In which case," Phantom frowned. "What has stopped you from challenging Prince Aragon for the past sixteen hundred years?"

"Succession in our nation runs through the male line of royalty," the medieval Princess clarified. "If not for the Empire's occupation, brother would be King, instead of merely a warlord in Pariah's court. Despite the war, the right to lead is Aragon's by birth, not mine."

"I see," the General offered, unsure as to the appropriate response.

"General Phantom," the briefest flicker of hesitation crossed her features. "I place myself entirely at your mercy by coming here tonight. What I'm about to reveal to you will doom my ally and I, should you ever choose to inform the King."

"What do you mean?" his voice acquired a hard edge. "I warn you, Princess, I am far too busy priming the King's troops for invasion to dabble in petty politics. Losing Pariah's favour will make my duties unnecessarily difficult."

"There is nothing petty about my proposition, _Lord General_," Dorethea wielded Phantom's title as though it were in itself an insult. "In case it has escaped your notice: I am no narcissistic air-head. I know that you were forcibly recruited," she continued. "I overheard the Fright Knight discuss it with Brother."

"Who else is aware of this fact?" the white haired ghost grimaced. The last thing he and Ember needed was for cracks to appear in their deception. Not when he had just about mastered the art of keeping them from being slain.

"As far as I know, Walker and my brother are the only two of his allies that the Fright Knight has chosen to inform. But I am surprised that this concerns you," the Princess raised a blonde eyebrow. "Whilst the other warlords may not necessarily have accepted you at court, you certainly command their respect and fear."

"What do you want of me?" Phantom queried, resignation evident.

"Nothing as of yet," the Midianne assured him, "treason has never been our aim. I merely extend an offer of alliance, amidst the madness of Pariah's court."

"What of your associate?" the General shook his head in disbelief. This had been the last thing that he had expected; the Princess certainly was full of surprises. "Do you speak for him, as well?"

"We have discussed this beforehand," Dorethea inclined her head in a regal manner. "I would not have approached you otherwise."

"You said it yourself," Phantom arched a white eyebrow. "Amidst such madness, what can you ever hope to accomplish?"

"War has wearied my people," the Princess uttered softly, as she turned to leave. "How can I deny them hope? Think on our offer, General," she paused. "You may have managed to fool the rest of Pariah's court into thinking you're nothing but a ruthless bastard, but we see you otherwise."

-

_Damn Phantom_, Ember McLain cursed silently to herself as she navigated, unseen, above the rooftops of Amity Park. He probably wouldn't have turned out half as stupid, had Maddie raised him. Why in hell's name had she assented when he had put her up to this monstrously dangerous task? She had always known that one day he was going to get her slain. Not that it mattered, the azure haired woman reminded herself wryly. She was already living on borrowed time- she had been for the last two decades, they both were.

But for now, Ember was alive, and she was dreading this favour immensely. The ghost gritted her teeth as she decreased her altitude, slowing her speed as she strained her eyes for even the slightest sign of a disturbance. She had learned from experience and from babysitting the human girl on Phantom's request that a particularly aggressive commotion usually meant Sam and her partner.

But Phantom's little girlfriend was getting better, Ember grudgingly admitted to herself. The girl was very good. Better than most at that age, including the azure haired ghost herself. And most importantly, Sam was learning to be economical, to make shrewd calculations whilst in the heat of a battle. Ember knew that Maddie had to be proud of her apprentice's progress.

Vlad's apprentice, too, was truly excellent. If they could be kept alive long enough for it to matter, they would one day hit the Empire where it hurt. _If_ there still was a Brotherhood after Pariah Dark was done with them, Ember reminded herself soberly; which meant it was absolutely imperative that the blue haired pyrokine didn't get herself caught tonight.

She had grown complacent and lazy, Ember had known that long before the Fright Knight had confronted her best friend to barter his services to the Ghost King for her safety. And despite her constant admonishment of Phantom's carelessness, the blue haired ghost knew that she too, was to blame. After all, wasn't she the one that ought to know better?

But there were nights where she truly couldn't help herself. At first, she hadn't been able to bear watching her brethren below her, hovering as close to them as she dared, for fear of setting off their detectors; she couldn't stomach the thought of letting them see her- not like this. Especially not Maddie, no matter how much it hurt that her former best friend would no longer be capable of regarding her as nothing more than the enemy.

So she had kept her distance, watching helplessly from the sidelines as her team mates grew up and changed, ascending in the Brotherhood's ranks, or died defying those like her whilst she remained eternally the same. She had hoped against hope, at first. For companionship from her ranks, that some of them would join her in her fate in death. But she remained the only one. For the thousandth time since the night that she had died, Ember wondered if she truly was evil.

To the female ghost's immense sadness, Maddie never returned to the field after that incident, more than twenty years ago. At which point, Ember had been leading a quiet, strifeless existence under the Empire's radar for nearly ten years, wondering why she even existed. All that had ended the instant she learned of Maddie's ambush by the Night Police, and her subsequent possession. Not that the female ghost would ever regret her actions- she had hunted down the bastard that had possessed her best friend and ended him so violently that she still remembered the scent of his destruction, the curling of his smoldering ashes, the shallow heaving of her chest from the breaths she was needlessly taking, just to feel human once more, if only for a moment.

It wasn't long before the rest of the Fright Knight's liegemen caught up with her. She had damned herself in that instant, but even with hindsight, Ember would never change her mind. The loss of anonymity in the Empire's eyes had been a small price to pay for such glorious revenge. As for what happened next- Ember could only laugh in despair, something that she had found herself doing a lot recently. Even now, she was almost ashamed at the lengths to which she had resorted to in order to stave off abject loneliness.

_There. _Ember bit her lip in concentration as she descended abruptly. The unmistakable plumes of anti-spectral explosives. This could very well be Sam and her partner. She moved in closer, allowing herself to flicker into view as her hunch was confirmed. Three to two? The female ghost raised an eyebrow in amusement as she surveyed the scene before her. Had the pair of them finally learned to fight smart?

Flames licked at her fingertips as Ember hurled throes of fierce blue at Sam's enemies, desperate not to squander the element of surprise; she'd be damned if she left witnesses. The first of the Night Police, she slew on the spot, the other two scattered in blind surprise, leaving themselves wide open as she closed in for the kill, her entire form engulfed in a blue spectral estrus.

"Traitor," one of them screamed in rage and pain as she approached, turning his blade on her. "The Lord General will have your head for this."

"Will he?" Ember sneered, her eyes flaming magenta as she threw up a hand, enveloping their forms in flames, unable to suppress the fierce grin on her features as the skeletal ghosts' remains sputtered and cracked wonderfully in the vicious heat. It had been far too long since she had last fended for herself.

"I didn't get you two by accident, did I?" she queried jovially as she turned to face the pair of ghost hunters, as Sam's eyes widened in outrage, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue.

"It's good to see you too," Ember commented dryly as she regarded the ghost hunter.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sam shrieked in demand. "Lancer needed the demons alive for weapons tests."

"What does it look like?" Ember snorted softly. "I saved you."

"I didn't need your help," Sam snarled. "Everything was under control."

"I'm sure it was," mockery laced Phantom's associate's tone as she eyed Sam's bare wrists. "Especially since you've managed to lose your ghost gauntlets. How unprofessional," she wrinkled her nose.

"Ember McLain," Valerie bit out the name in distaste, her ecto blaster trained squarely on Ember.

"Vlad's apprentice," the ghost raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. "How's he been faring lately?"

"That's none of your business, traitor," Valerie hissed.

"They really don't teach you to say thank you, do they?" Ember planted her fists on her hips in amusement, despite herself, "she's just as bad as you are," she grinned at Sam, whose expression was pure venom. "It was nice meeting you, Valerie," the azure haired ghost began airily, "but my business is with Sam, and Sam alone," she tilted her head slightly, and Vlad's apprentice disappeared in a torrent of blue flames.

It took Sam no time at all to retaliate. "Where is she?" the ghost hunter demanded fiercely, blasting artificial spectral energy at the ghost in anger and fear. "What did you do to her?"

"Relax," Ember sighed, shielding herself from Sam's blows. "She's safe. I sent her back to headquarters."

"Why should I believe you?" Sam snarled.

"How about because you don't have a choice?" the female ghost grinned despite herself.

Maddie's apprentice's only reply was a scream of rage as she lunged at Ember, not caring that in her current state she was far outmatched.

"I'll concede that you've been getting less reckless lately," the blue haired ghost shrugged as she sidestepped the blow. "I guess everyone has their off days. But I can tell that you're doing Maddie proud," a note of fondness entered her voice, so subtle that Sam believed that she had imagined it.

"Don't you _dare_ say her name again," the ghost hunter's hackles rose as her hands clenched into fists. "After everything you've done-"

"As charming and pleasant as this conversation is, the real reason I'm here is to issue a second warning," azure eyes hardened as the female ghost interjected roughly, crushing Sam's ecto blaster with a clench of her fist. An unnecessary gesture, but Maddie's apprentice's retort had cut her deeper than she would ever admit. "Phantom has a message for you."

"Then you can tell Phantom exactly what I think of him," Sam hissed.

"Go to hell," Ember snapped. "I think you've done quite enough damage on that front," she continued in stern irritation. "You need to stop dragging Phantom's self-esteem through the mud. And I'm sick of risking my existence for the sake of an ungrateful little brat."

"I never asked you to," Sam growled. "And I never asked Phantom to spare me. I would've been dead, I _should've_ been dead."

"And yet the Lord General has been struggling to keep you alive," the blue haired woman noted wryly, "how unfortunate for you. I can only _begin to imagine _the immense suffering of your current circumstance."

"He needs to learn that I'd rather be dead than accept his help," Sam uttered coolly, as she turned to leave. She'd rather face the enemy defenseless than have to endure _this, _when she had spent the past months trying so hard to forget that the white haired ghost ever existed. "He's chosen his side, and I'm sticking by mine."

"Listen, princess," Ember snapped. "If you walk away from me, Maddie's going to die. You _all_ are. The Ghost King has grown impatient- his plans have changed, and he intends to occupy surrounding territories and starve the Brotherhood out like rats."

"Pariah Dark is actively hunting us?" the ghost hunter reiterated softly, willing her knees not to give way.

"Not yet," the urgency had yet to leave Maddie's former partner tone. "His troops await Phantom's command. He can buy the Brotherhood enough time to flee Amity, once and for all."

"Phantom wants us to flee Amity Park," Sam snorted softly. "What else is new? Why does he always assume that we'll take the coward's way out? We're nothing like him."

"If it makes you feel any better, think of it as a tactical retreat," Ember tilted her head as she regarded Sam. "But this decision isn't yours to make," she continued solemnly. "It's Maddie's, and the Council's. I cannot let the prejudices of one as young as you doom the entirety of our-", she winced, "­_your_ brethren. Promise me you'll at least relay this information to your mentor," she insisted forcefully, ignoring her previous faux pas.

"You still give a damn about Maddie, don't you?" Sam breathed, comprehension dawning.

"No shit," Ember's lip twisted. "You remind me of what I was like at your age, kid," amusement flashed across Maddie's former partner's features.

"I am nothing like you," the ghost hunter retorted hotly, glowering.

"If you say so," Ember arched an elegant blue eyebrow. "Nice jeans, by the way," she added offhandedly, fighting back a grin as Sam pulled a face in response to the unwanted compliment.

"And take these," a blue estrus swirled in the female ghost's palm as a pair of battered silver bracelets materialized. She stretched out her hand, offering them to Sam. "They're not exactly the latest in anti ghost technology," Ember conceded, "I know that they've got nothing on what Lancer comes up with nowadays, but at least they'll get you out of here."

"Where did you get these?" Sam's tone was accusing, as raven eyebrows narrowed in suspicion.

"Where do you _think_ I got them?" the former Brotherhood member's laugh was bitter. "They were salvaged from my corpse."

"Are you sure that it was just _your_ corpse that you've salvaged?" the ghost hunter refused to relent, as she took several steps back. "How long have you been stealing from us?"

"Why in hell's name would I bother saving anyone else's kit?" bemusement was evident on the azure haired woman's face. "I'm a ghost, remember? I form irrational attachments to shit I used to own as a human. I'm impressed that you actually managed to forget that, _ghost hunter_," the words were emphasised lightly, almost as though Ember was teasing Sam. "Phantom just might be right, you might not be a lost cause after all."

"You don't know anything about me," Maddie's apprentice hissed, though it lacked a little more conviction this time.

"I never said I did. Don't get me wrong," Ember clarified. "You're a stubborn bitch. And if it was up to me, I'd just let you die. The only reason that I'm letting you have them is because I know that you mean more to Phantom than these do to me. Now _take them_, you stupid girl."

Having been left with no other choice, Sam snatched the gauntlets from Ember's outstretched hand, and fled.

-

**A****uthor's Notes:** I'm currently attempting to write like the wind. The grand plan is to have 50k of **AA **written by the end of the month for nanowrimo, so theoretically I should have ten chapters by the end of the month. I had a late start, since I had to sit an entrance exam on nov 8 and I've been spending the past week being absolutely useless, but hopefully now that I've started the writing will keep coming.

Special thanks go to bloodmoon14 for awesome fanart on deviantart. Especially 'Terror Flight'. :D

As usual, reviews and concrit is greatly appreciated! :D

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	17. Echoes

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 16**

**Echoes**

"What's the rush, Maddie?" Ember hissed as she tore after her partner in the pitch black darkness. "Fenton's not meant to be meeting us for another fifteen minutes, at least."

"Maybe if you stopped chain smoking, you'd be able to keep up for once," the redhead retorted lightly, making no effort to slow down as they made their way to the agreed rendez-vous point.

"You do realise that us being there isn't going to bring him back any faster," her best friend's reply was dry.

"I know," Maddie conceded as they ducked into the shadows surrounding them. "But us being there means that the minute he shows up, we can get out of here."

"Relax," Ember grinned. "There's absolutely no moon in the sky. Tonight's our night. The only night that the enemy can't challenge us and win. I could probably light up right here without bringing the Night Police down on our heads."

"Ember!" Maddie admonished as they slowed, catching her breath. One day, Ember's recklessness was going to get them into unsalvageable trouble. "You try something that stupid, I'll kill you myself before the enemy even gets here."

"It was a joke, Maddie," Ember laughed, as they navigated the derelict grounds, their footsteps swallowed into the eerie silence. "Normal people make them sometimes. Why are you so worried about Jack, anyhow?"

"I just hate the fact that he's out there by himself," the ghost hunter replied softly. "He could be out there, face down in a ditch, and we wouldn't know anything about it."

"I hear Lancer's putting together this communication system for us," the azure haired woman supplied, trying to cheer her best friend. "It'll give us immediate access to both superiors and peers."

"I heard that too," Maddie's expression was wry. "His best invention yet, he called it. Apparently he believes it'll be best if every member of the Brotherhood has it grafted onto the inside of his or her ear."

"Can't deny that it's a good idea," Ember conceded, her lips quirking into a grin. "But after you."

"Ishiyama's already volunteered to be his guinea pig," Maddie laughed.

"That girl's too sweet for her own good," Ember shook her head. "But back to Jack. I saw you leave headquarters with him the other day," Ember raised a suggestive eyebrow. "You two get up to anything interesting?"

"Jack walked me home after patrol," Maddie's cheeks coloured at the insinuation. "That's all."

"If you say so," her partner replied, disbelief evident in her tone. "But I'm glad that you've finally decided to choose between them. Maybe now the rest of us will finally get some peace."

"What do you mean?" the redhead frowned, perturbed.

"God, Maddie," Ember snorted. "For someone as intelligent as you're meant to be, you sure are clueless. Vlad and Jack have been nothing short of throwing themselves at you since the day that you were enlisted."

"You exaggerate," Maddie rolled her eyes at her best friend. "At any rate, I'm not choosing between either of them," she protested. "The four of us work so well together, and that's the most important thing. The Brotherhood always comes first."

"If you say so," the azure haired girl shrugged. "But it's a choice that you're going to have to make eventually, whether you like it or not."

"In another decade, maybe," the council's favourite replied lightly, "at the moment, I have more important things on my mind."

"Such as?" Ember snorted softly.

"Living to twenty-five would be a start," Maddie stated dryly.

"Having Jack survive would be helpful too," Ember added helpfully, ignoring her best friend's look of playful annoyance. "Where are we, anyway?" the blue haired ghost hunter wondered aloud.

"Judging from the vast quantities of arsenic present, I'm guessing we're in an abandoned factory that used to make rat poison," Maddie informed.

"Charming. Couldn't they have picked a better rendez-vous point?" Ember wrinkled her nose as she glanced at the moldy barrels surrounding her.

"It's not our place to question our superior's decisions," Maddie reminded her.

"Maybe," Ember snorted softly. "But they could at least be a little more considerate."

"Where is he?" the other ghost hunter bit her lip in frustration, knotting her fingers in worry.

"I'm sure he's fine," the blue haired girl patted the other reassuringly on the arm.

"I hope you're right," Maddie continued worrying her bottom lip.

"I know I am," Ember winked, and the scene lurched and shifted.

Maddie's vision was wrought with flames, her chest crushed with the insurmountable surge of both grief, and the choking scent of burning. Yet, she was only vaguely aware of what was truly going on around her. Her entire consciousness seemed focused on a single, pivotal moment, replayed over and over again like a horrific nightmare.

"_EMBER!" _she screamed, her chest tightening painfully in insurmountable grief as she blindly stumbled forwards, streaks of bright blue swimming across her vision as the flames that surrounded them were refracted into the tears in her eyes, the broken, distorted images burned forever into her memory.

"_Don't_," she remembered a firm pair of hands around her waist, holding her back as she fought him, struggling and screaming despite her bone deep weariness, and that tiny, hateful part of her mind that had begun to truly accept what had occurred before her.

Maddie remembered shrieking in frustration, driving her elbows deep into his ribs, her boots slamming sharply into his shins with no intent but the simple desire to _hurt_, to hurt Jack so that he would release her, allowing her to close the distance between her and her partner. Jack merely grunted in response, gently setting her down as she collapsed amongst the embers, broken by her anguish.

The plan had been so simple. A tearful chortle bubbled out from the back of Maddie's throat. The four of them had made it to the rendez-vous point, the worst was supposed to be over. All they had to do was watch each other's backs and keep their noses clean until they returned to headquarters after a successful night out on patrol.

This wasn't supposed to happen- not yet, anyway. Maddie had always known that she was going to die at the hands of the enemy- that in itself was an irrefutable fact. Ember, too, had known this. They had given their lives away to the Brotherhood without regret. There was very little, perhaps nothing, that could ever sway the ghost hunters in their commitment to the Council. But never in her darkest moments had Maddie even begun to fathom that she would outlive her partner.

"It was supposed to be the two of us, right until the end," she mumbled stupidly to no one in particular, her eyes stinging from fatigue and the fumes. She didn't care that she sounded childish and selfish.

"We have to leave," at the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware of Jack placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"She's not gone," Maddie whispered, mostly to herself. "_She can't be gone_. I'm going to kill her for this," she shrieked, clawing at her face in her grief.

"I'm sorry Maddie," Jack murmured, as he knelt down, enveloping her in the embrace that would become her lifeline to sanity in the years to come. "But we have to get out of here. We can't let Ember's sacrifice be for nothing."

"Why did she protect me?" she whimpered into his chest. "I don't deserve to live."

Mere feet away, her partner's blackened corpse held no answer. Ember's usually attractive features were beyond recognition by even those dearest to her, emitting dark, heady coils of smoke, the stench of burnt human flesh hanging in the air between them.

And miles away, in another time, Maddie Fenton awoke weeping.

-

_Pariah plans to invade, _Sam still had to fight to keep herself from dry heaving in fear as she thought upon Phantom's warning. _We're all going to die._ It wasn't fear for her own survival that was the issue- by living, she had already doomed her brethren the night that she had met Phantom. Sam had long since accepted her own fate. It was her comrades she feared for, especially Jazz, Tucker and Valerie, along with Paulina, Kwan, Dash, and Star. She feared for the Council, especially Maddie and Jack, that their wisdom would be lost to their brethren forever.

_If_ there was a Brotherhood still standing after Pariah Dark was done with them, she reminded herself bitterly. Every turn, every decision that Sam had made since Phantom had saved her was fraught with a multitude of 'what ifs' and risks, and the ghost hunter wasn't sure how much more of a battering her nerves could take. For the nth time, Sam fervently wished that Phantom had left her to die the night of his betrayal. At least then he would have put her out of her misery.

She sighed as she entered Lancer and Tucker's empty tech room, sinking into her best friend's battered swivel chair. It had been too much to hope that he would wait up for her. She was tired, they all were. It was unfair on her part to expect him and Valerie to stay up into the morning to wait for her to show up back at Headquarters. Not when so much was expected of them by the Council. Besides, the ghost hunter added wryly to herself. For her friends, worrying over her reckless behavior and occasional underhanded meetings with ghosts had probably lost its novelty.

Sam yawned, glancing at the time on the clock mounted on the lab wall. It was half past seven in the morning, and far too early for her to be up. Ghost hunters were mainly nocturnal, owing to their unusual choice of life. Abruptly, Sam's senses were jarred into full alertness as she heard the gait of a familiar pair of footsteps approach, blinking in surprise as the figure of her mentor appeared in the doorway.

"Maddie?" Sam called out softly. "What are you doing up this early?"

"I couldn't sleep," her mentor shared, her smile almost apologetic. "And what better way to stave off past regrets than tinkering with weaponry and fixing Lancer's mistakes?" her expression grew playful.

"Don't let Lancer catch you saying that," her apprentice grinned. "Or Tucker, for that matter."

"What are you doing up?" Maddie asked in return. "You have another full night ahead of you, Sam. You ought to be spending the day resting."

Sam blinked in astonishment. She hadn't expected Valerie to keep their encounter with Ember to themselves. No wonder Maddie had been surprised to see her up. The ghost hunter inwardly winced. Once again, she had placed her partner in a difficult position, torn between worry for her safety, and worry of exposing her past unforgivable mistakes to their superiors.

"Nothing," Sam smiled. Or at least, she attempted to. Her lips were stretching in the direction that they were meant to, but they somehow felt different. Too rubbery, and yet leaden, all at the same time. It had been more than six months since Phantom had happened, but when would she finally be free of the lies? When would she deem herself once again be worthy of her mentor's trust? "Maddie," the ghost hunter hesitated. "I need to talk to you."

"What about, dear?" the Brotherhood's leader's queried gently, noticing the discomfort on her apprentice's face.

"About these," Sam stated softly, slipping Ember's ghost gauntlets from her wrists. Sharp, icy chills shot up her spine as she took the note of the stunned expression on her mentor's face as Sam dangled the battered steel bracelets on her index finger before her. "Well, not about these in particular," she bit her lip. "But they're a start."

"They're a very old model," Maddie breathed, as she sank into a chair nearby. "The Council and I grew up using these. Where did you find them?"

"Ember Mclain," the ghost hunter supplied, already beginning to regret her decision to approach their leader for answers.

"You spoke with her," her mentor managed out, "last night?"

"I did," Sam forced herself to meet Maddie's eyes. "And she had a message for you. Well, for the Council," shades of purple clashed. "But I don't doubt that you were first and foremost, the intended recipient."

Maddie closed her eyes, drawing several long, shuddering breaths in order to calm herself as she buried her face in her hands. Sam's eyebrows knitted in concern as she reached out towards her mentor before hesitating and replacing her hand on her lap.

She had never seen Maddie like this, even when she spoke of the son that she had lost. Her mentor rarely spoke of the night of her possession, but when she did, Maddie's sadness was always fleeting, and always quickly pushed to one side as their leader occupied herself with more important matters. Intuitively, Sam couldn't help but feel that to this day, Maddie was still putting off fully mourning for the loss of her baby boy. As for Ember McLain, Maddie had never mentioned her former partner. Sam truly didn't understand. Had her recent revelation of Ember's existence truly shaken Maddie so?

When she next spoke, their leader's voice had acquired a hard edge to it. "What does she want?"

"Nothing," Sam hastily replied, disturbed to realise how defensive she sounded, as though she was shielding Ember from her mentor's blame. "She just left us a warning," Sam took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Pariah Dark is planning to hunt us down, and force us out into the open by starving us out of supplies."

"Why would she help us?" Maddie pushed herself to her feet, as she begun pacing the room. "This is the second time that she's bothered to warn us of the Empire's actions."

"I just thought I'd let you know," Sam provided softly. "I know she's the enemy now, but her previous warning was accurate."

"And perhaps more importantly," Maddie carried on, talking over her apprentice, her mind whirling as she desperately tried to make sense of it all. "How would Ember have access to such information? Is the General still protecting her?" she demanded abruptly, turning to face her apprentice.

"Yes," Sam faltered, her fingernails digging into her knees as she battled her indecision. Why was it so hard not to lie to the person that she trusted most? "The message originated from General Phantom himself."

"Why would _he_ help us?" what little distrust that had left Maddie's eyes immediately returned as her apprentice uttered the General's name. "Are you certain that he's not attempting to manipulate you again?"

"He could very well be," Sam's lips pursed into a thin line as her fingers dug harder into her flesh. She ignored the sting. "We've been given absolutely no reason to trust his word. But given the transparent nature of the message…" the ghost hunter hesitated. "I believe that Ember's warning may hold some truth."

"The question is, how much?" Maddie mused out loud.

Sam remained silent, keeping her thoughts to herself as she quietly observed her mentor's eyes dart in rapid thought, her mouth forming half whispers as she considered the situation. After all, it was not her place to offer advice to a member of the Council, her apprentice or not. If she hadn't been the bearer of the message, Sam doubted if word of Phantom's warning would have even reached her ears. The ghost hunter stood, turning to leave before pausing, her self-discipline wavering as she succumbed to utter curiosity.

"Ember McLain," Sam began softly, nearly losing her nerve as Maddie's head jerked immediately to regard her. "Was she a good comrade?" the ghost hunter bit her lip, weary of overstepping her boundaries, "a good partner?"

"She was more than a good partner to me," Maddie's lips quirked upwards in a sad smile. "She was a good friend. The best."

"I'm sorry," Sam flinched, apologising. "I had no right to ask that."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart," Maddie assured her gently. "You had every right. In fact, you remind me slightly of her, when she was your age," a faint light entered the Brotherhood leader's eyes.

"That's what she said," Sam grimaced. "I didn't want to believe her."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Maddie clarified, placing her hand on Sam's. "Ember was a very talented hunter. One of the most outstanding in her generation."

"Then how did she end up as one of them?" sharpness entered Maddie's apprentice's tone, as she snatched her hand from her mentor before she could help herself. "I'm sorry," Sam cringed, crossing her arms awkwardly as she threw Maddie an apologetic glance. "That was unnecessary."

Maddie merely shook her head, and Sam flinched, unsure if her mentor's action signaled forgiveness, or a rejection of her apology. It was a while before their leader once again spoke, whilst the ghost hunter kept her eyes trained to the floor in front of her as she endured the augmented silence.

"Sometimes I wonder why I am even recognised as the Brotherhood's leader," Maddie murmured softly. "After all, what am I carrying, but a piece of the enemy festering in my soul? Our brethren deserve better than to follow the commands of one like me, tainted beyond exorcism."

"You're _human_," Sam protested weakly in reply, appalled. "And a living legend. You battled possession, and won. You need no other reason to command our respect."

"If not for the recklessness on my part that led to my contamination, I'd be willing to wager that I wouldn't be sitting at the head of the Council, as I am now," their leader sighed at the irony. "And Daniel would still be here with us."

"It's not your fault," Sam offered consolingly. "Jack doesn't blame you for what happened that night."

"But it was," the red haired woman whispered. "If I hadn't fought that vile demon so hard, I wouldn't have forced him out of my body- and into little Danny's."

"You don't know that for sure," her apprentice's tone grew more insistent. "What were you supposed to do, stand by and allow him to kill the both of you?"

"I couldn't protect him," Maddie bit her lip. "Just like I couldn't protect Ember. But I swear that'll never happen to you," she ran a hand gently over her apprentice's cheek. "Never again."

"I can take care of myself," Sam assured her. "I'm not going to let you outlive me."

"That's good to hear," a small laugh of relief escaped her mentor's throat.

"So have you decided what you're going to do?" Sam asked, as Maddie raised an eyebrow in question. "About the alleged invasion looming," she clarified.

"There was no need to give it very much thought," a grin of fierce determination crossed the Brotherhood leader's features. And despite Sam's own fear and misgivings, Maddie's fearlessness was infectious. "After all, it's hardly as though we've left with any other choice- we stand and fight."

-

"I trust you have a good reason to be keeping me from my duties," the Fright Knight growled, as Prince Aragon approached.

"Peace, Fright Knight," Aragon replied irritably as he joined him under the arches in his gardens. "Your wrath is not what it once was."

"I thought that I assured you that this setback was temporary," the former General's voice was gravelly with annoyance. "It will not be long until the King restores to me what is rightfully mine."

"Are you certain of this?" Aragon questioned, more flippantly than he would have previously dared. "Your attempts thus far to regain the General's mantle have been indiscriminately rebuffed by our Liege, whilst Phantom remains steadfastly at the King's right hand. I express my utmost doubts that your successor will be likely to fall out of favour with the King any time soon."

"The attack on the Brotherhood is mine to lead," the Fright Knight snarled. "After centuries of service to my King, after everything that I have sacrificed on his behalf, it is my _right_ to lead his armies."

"It is a pity that the Ghost King no longer considers it so," Aragon observed bluntly.

"You have grown far too bold," the Fright Knight's baritone voice took on a dangerous edge. "Perhaps it's time that I reminded you of your place, _Prince_."

"There is no need," the draconian Prince replied coolly. "I am well aware of where I stand. On equal footing with you for the first time in centuries. The weight of your allegiance behind me is not what it once was, Fright Knight. With every successful command Phantom fulfills on the Ghost King's behalf, your influence in the Empire dwindles. It is imperative that this rectified before we become laughing stocks at court."

"I am not the one with a loose canon for a sister," the older Midian hissed.

"A loose canon?" Aragon raised an eyebrow. "Is that truly how you see her?"

"How else would I?" the Fright Knight grunted. "Especially when she insists on seeking meaningless audiences with our Liege, wasting his time on frivolous matters such as increasing rations for the peasants of your land. Dorethea does not share your ideals, yet you insist that she is harmless?"

"Sister may be outspoken in her meaningless principles," Aragon conceded. "But I am still her brother and liege. She may dabble in petty intrigue in order to sustain her weak, soft hearted hobbies, but she would never move against me."

"She shares your power, and your lineage," the Fright Knight stated shortly. "Your assumptions had better not be faulty."

"I assure you," the Prince elucidated smoothly. "Thirteen hundred years has been more than sufficient time to learn Dorethea's motives. But this is irrelevant," Aragon made a great show of smoothing his robes. "I requested your presence here tonight for a far more important matter."

"Are you certain that we are free to speak without fear of being overheard?" the other warlord questioned edgily.

"But of course," the Prince smirked. "All the servants in the surrounding area will be disposed of at the end of our business. I believe that you'd agree when I say that slain ears are the sort which are least likely to talk."

"I couldn't agree more, friend," the Fright Knight replied shortly, nodding in acknowledgement to the gardener bowing before him in welcome some distance away, an old, knobbly spectre with an aged appearance who nearly fell over in surprise that his greeting was returned.

"For one with such immense hatred for General Phantom, you are remarkably poor at keeping tabs on him," a note of smugness entered Aragon's voice.

"He dismissed half his staff from his holdings, including many of my existing eyes and ears," Phantom's predecessor growled. "That was beyond my control."

"There are alternative methods of carrying out the task," Aragon steepled his fingers as he faced his ally. "Far simpler methods which reap greater rewards."

"You've discovered something," the Fright Knight's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't you?"

"Peace, friend," the Prince replied airily. "Indeed, this information benefits us both- especially you."

"How so?" the other warlord queried, his interest piqued despite his ire.

"Ember McLain," Aragon's voice had yet to lose its self satisfied quality. "Are you aware of who exactly she is in relation to your successor?"

"His little wench," the Fright Knight noted, disinterested. "I fail to see where this is going."

"I had her followed," the draconian Prince smirked. "And you'll be most interested to learn of the fruits of my labour. It seems that her services to Phantom do not end at merely warming his bed."

"What have you learned?" the older Midian demanded roughly. "Tell me."

"It seems our Lord General has been harbouring a pet human girl," Aragon shook his head in mock disbelief, his smirk widening, "a _Brotherhood_ _girl_. He sent Ember McLain to seek her out and warn her of our Liege's plans; his actions reek of treason. Somehow, I doubt that the King is going to look kindly upon consorting with the enemy, no matter how insignificant they are."

"Disgraceful," the Fright Knight did not bother to hide the grin of celebratory ferocity that stretched across his features. "It would appear that we have finally found a weakness in the formerly invincible Lord General."

"I do believe we have," the draconian Prince's sneer matched his ally's. "Now, friend, how do you suggest that we exploit it?"

**-**

**Author's Notes:** Pffft. Still not working as fast as I'm meant to, but I'm getting there, hopefully! Fellow geeks: go back and read that bit about arsenic in the poison factory. One of the chemical properties of arsenic is that it yields a blue flame in flame tests. And Ember was born. :D

As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated!

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	18. Epiphany

For_ bloodmoon13. _:D

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 17**

**Epiphany**

"Samantha," Tetslaff's eyes bored into Sam's vision as she struggled to stop herself from fidgeting in discomfort at the calculating coldness of the Council's gaze. "I trust that you've been told why you're here."

"Yes," out of the corner of her eyes, Sam could see Maddie nod tacitly in encouragement. Gritting her teeth, the ghost hunter fought to keep herself from shooting her mentor a nervous glance, "I have." There was no way that she was letting Tetslaff know exactly how much her stony gaze unnerved her.

"There is a strong chance that in less than a month, we will all be dead," Vlad stated shortly, with uncharacteristic bluntness. "What makes you think that you have what it takes to lead our brethren?"

"What he means is, tell us about your strengths, Sam," Ishiyama translated gently, softening the blow as she shot Valerie's mentor a reproachful look.

"I believe the sheer figures of her kills in recent months speak for themselves," Damon supplied, as he flipped through the records that the Council had previously trawled through. "Your performance has been most impressive, Sam."

"Well done, Sam," Jack acknowledged cheerfully. "We're proud of you."

"Thank you," the ghost hunter strove to accept the compliment gracefully, without arrogance, as she observed the corners of Maddie's lip quirk into a smile at the edge of her vision. "I am glad to be able to serve the Brotherhood to the best of my ability."

"And she has been," their leader provided. "But Sam has yet to reach her peak. She has great potential, still."

"Do you intend to release Sam from her apprenticeship under you sometime in the next year, Maddie?" Ishiyama questioned.

"I do," Maddie clarified. "Provided I survive Pariah's plans. Perhaps even sooner, if I deem her ready."

Sam opened her mouth, then closed it with a soft click as her teeth met, unsure how much input she ought to be putting in whilst the Council discussed her progress in her presence.

"Are you aware of who else has been called for an interview?" Lancer questioned, regarding her in an altogether more serious manner than Sam was used to.

"Yes," Sam replied, wishing that she would stop answering in monosyllables. She could not afford to come across as timid, not now. "Valerie and Jazz."

"And what makes you think that you can do a better job than either of them?" he pressed. "Who do you think presents you with greater competition?"

"I don't see either of them as competition," Sam's truthful reply was met with raised eyebrows. "Not that I see myself as better than either of them," she added hastily. "What I meant was, they're both extremely capable, and I would gladly serve under either of them, should you decide that I am unsuitable for the post."

The slight tightening of Maddie's jaw as she pursed her lips alerted Sam belatedly that she had provided the wrong answer. Dull panic spread through the ghost hunter. Had she failed her mentor already?

"You have humility," a grin cracked across Tetslaff's features, as Maddie visibly sighed in relief. "I like that about you, child."

"But perhaps too much," Vlad drawled. "We require Maddie's heir to be capable of commanding our subordinates' unconditional respect. If you cannot assert yourself, you cannot even begin to hope to lead our brethren."

"I think that you will find that Sam is well respected among her peers," Maddie provided curtly. "And at any rate, she definitely has my respect," her mentor favoured Sam with a warm smile that eased her nerves.

"Is that a direct endorsement?" Tetslaff's voice held curiosity.

"Yes," their leader replied firmly, as Sam's stomach fluttered wildly, fighting to keep her blush from showing on her cheeks. "Yes it is."

"Obviously, as her mentor, your bias must be taken into account," Vlad parried wryly.

"It is not merely my bias," Maddie replied irritably. "Why else would I choose my apprentice over my own daughter, despite our closeness?"

"And we are to believe the fact that she has no ambition whatsoever regarding leadership has nothing to do with it?"

"Yes," Madie's gaze hardened. "I don't see why you're having such problems understanding this, Vlad."

"Enough," Jack grunted, "you've made your points, both of you."

"We have," Valerie's mentor agreed gruffly. "Shall we continue?"

"Do you feel that your training under Maddie has thus far prepared you for the task of leading the Brotherhood?" Ishiyama broke the tension.

"Yes," Sam affirmed. "In every way possible."

"You joined us later than most children do," Lancer noted. "Do you feel in any way disadvantaged by your late start?"

"No in the slightest," Sam allowed a note of pride to enter her voice. "Especially when I've been trained by the best."

"No one would debate that fact," Damon Gray replied, shooting Maddie an amused glance.

"If you were forced to choose between saving your partner's life, or rescuing a civilian in need, what would you choose?" several members of the Council sat up in interest at the question Tetslaff posed.

"Valerie," Sam replied, almost immediately, ignoring Tetslaff's frown and the look of triumph on Vlad's face at her misstep. "But the fact that she is my friend is irrelevant," she continued, to half the Council's surprise.

"Then why would you save her, over someone that we have sworn to protect?" Ishiyama asked, her brow furrowing.

"Because of the simple weighing of losses," the ghost hunter replied immediately, inwardly cringing as Maddie mouthed the words alongside her, unbeknownst to the rest of the Council. If she failed to make this decision in future, would she still be a worthy leader of their brethren? "Should she survive, Valerie will go on to save countless more civilians, given her skills. Furthermore, the Brotherhood will have to expend far more time and effort training a new recruit up from scratch to take her place."

"Well answered," Tetslaff conceded gruffly. "I underestimated you, Sam,"

Sam blinked in surprise at the unexpected praise, forcibly reminded of the last time she had sat in this very chair, faced by the whole of the Council, and how bitterly afraid she had been that they would see through her lies. "I just wish to serve our brethren the best that I can," she repeated in reflex, regaining her composure.

"As for your mistakes," Vlad elucidated smoothly. "What do you consider your biggest blunder to date?"

_Living_, Sam thought bitterly to herself. _Allowing myself to be saved by Phantom. If I had died that night, eight months ago, the Empire would have continued to remain unaware of his whereabouts, and Pariah Dark never would have replaced the Fright Knight with an other, far more dangerous monster. The greater of two evils._

Out loud, she said: "Unfortunately, that is an easy question to answer. I believe many of you would agree that observing a high level duel between Midians in order to learn more about Phantom despite being commanded by our leader not to was highly reckless on both mine and _Valerie's_ parts," she folded her arms, leaning back into her chair as she made sure to stress Vlad's apprentice's name, eyeing him in challenge. "_We_ were too eager to be of use to the Council, and it was sheer luck that kept us alive that night. It will never happen again."

"I am glad to hear that," Damon replied. "Sometimes, risks are necessary. That, however, was not one of those times."

The ghost hunter bit her lip in response, feeling guilty for bringing her best friend down with her. But as Maddie had said, it had to be done. It wasn't as though Vlad was doing her any favours. Sam had no doubts that he had posed his previous question with no intention other than to sabotage her chances at leadership.

To be honest, she had no idea why Vlad's query had filled her with such competitiveness. If the Council thought her worthy, she was more than willing to stand in as Maddie's deputy in the case of the horrible eventuality of her death in action, if that was how they believed she would best serve them. But she wasn't about to lie to herself and belittle her friend in her superiors' eyes. Valerie was just as worthy and just as deserving of the honour of leading the Brotherhood as she was. Sam only wished that she knew if that was what Valerie truly wanted.

"If we were to decide that you were inappropriate for this role," Jack queried gently, "where in the Brotherhood do you see yourself in the next decade?"

"If you do not believe me fit to lead, I would hope to be deemed worthy to sit at the Council someday, at the very least," Sam forced herself to stop chewing on her lip as she regarded her mentor's husband in response. This was just Jack, who treated her almost as a daughter. She had no reason to be nervous of his enquiries. "As for which department, I'd take on an apprentice or two, but I'll never leave the field," she stated hesitatingly. "Not until I die. I want to be out there, dealing as much damage as I possibly can to the enemy firsthand."

"A brave choice," Tetslaff raised an eyebrow. "You do realise that most that choose that path have a life expectancy of less than thirty years?"

"I am well aware of that fact," Sam replied, a small grin touching her features. "I would rather live till thirty knowing that I did all that I could than survive for forty odd years, forever regretting my decision to stay and fight."

"Have you ever questioned your loyalty to the Brotherhood, if even for a moment?" Maddie smiled at her apprentice, pleased with her performance thus far.

"No," Sam replied, and swallowed as she tried to ignore the taste of acid on her tongue at the lie. "Never, and I don't intend to start now." Maddie had asked her that as a throwaway question, one that was meant to relax her, and put her at ease. Little would her mentor know of the discomfort that such a straight forward question that many would take as a given would bring. How had she ever doubted her brethren, choosing instead to believe the lies of one of the enemy?

_What is justice__?_ Phantom's voice rang in her head, amused, _other than an excuse that both sides have been using for centuries as an excuse to inflict more pain and suffering?_ She squashed the recollection violently. Not here, not now.

Phantom had never been worth it; she was done with his manipulations. What hurt the most was that she had foolishly managed to convince herself that there was some good in him. Sam wondered to herself if the General would feel even marginally sorry for all the pain and suffering that he was about to cause. And yet, why had Phantom decide to warn her? He couldn't have seriously thought, even for a moment, that she would heed his advice and flee like a coward.

Even now, the memory of him left her feeling dirty and tainted, unworthy to even be considered for leadership by the Council. It wasn't as though there was much chance of her leading their brethren, Sam reminded herself soberly. On the off chance that she would outlive Maddie within the next month, it was highly unlikely that she would survive the Brotherhood's last stand against Pariah Dark's armies.

Icy chills of fear and dread shot up the ghost hunter's spine, accumulating painfully behind her eyes as the full horror of the situation facing her brethren finally hit her. Before the month was up, it was likely that everyone in this room, including her, would be dead.

"What other questions do you have for me?" the brotherhood girl enquired politely as she faced her leaders, desolation quietly setting in.

-

"How long have you two been waiting outside?" Sam's expression turned sour as she noticed Tucker and Valerie lingering outside the Council's chamber.

"At least you're still standing," Valerie replied cheerily, pushing herself to her feet in order to greet her friend, gathering her into a tight hug, "Tetslaff cut me off at the knees."

"How was it, in there?" Tucker questioned. "Was it half as bad as Valerie said?"

"That depends," Sam glanced at the other ghost hunter. "How bad _was_ it for you?"

"It was alright," her partner shrugged. "They asked some pretty harsh questions, but nothing that Vlad hadn't already warned me about."

"He was a right ass to me," Sam growled. "And I doubt that Maddie questioned you half as ruthlessly."

"No," Valerie paused. "She didn't. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But that's just Vlad for you. Did you truly expect anything different?"

"No," Sam grunted. "I didn't."

"I heard that Jazz flat out refused to turn up for her interview," Tucker informed, changing the subject.

"Did she?" Valerie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"Having two parents on the Council probably helped matters somewhat," Sam speculated dryly. "Then again, we've always known from the start that Jazz has no interest in leading the Brotherhood."

"So, I guess it's just you and me," Valerie offered, and Sam was surprised at the awkwardness that hung between them.

"Yeah," she frowned, as an unidentifiable sharpness fleetingly cut through her chest. "I guess it is."

"Not necessarily," Tucker reminded the pair. "With luck, Maddie is going to live for another two decades. With us preparing for Pariah's attack, the Council are just getting paranoid and covering every eventuality."

"I hope you're right, Tucker," Valerie admitted softly. "We're not ready for change. None of us is."

"Val, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Sam bit her lip as she regarded the other woman. "About your interview?"

"Not really," her partner shrugged. "It's over now. Nothing that I tell you could possibly change anything."

"Did Tetslaff ask you about what you would do if you had to choose between me or a civilian?" the lavender eyed girl queried.

"Yeah," Valerie pushed her hair off her face. "I take it that they asked you the exact same thing?"

"What did you say?" Sam frowned and continued worrying her lip.

"I chose the civilian over you," the sheepish expression on Valerie's face was cut short as she threw a glare at Tucker's noise of disbelief as he mimed a knife to the gut. "I wouldn't actually," she grinned in assurance as she held up her palms in defense. "I just said what Vlad told me that the Council were going to want to hear. Why?" her partner's brow furrowed in curiosity. "What did you say?"

"I chose you," Sam informed, striving to keep her voice light as she tried not to envision Valerie and herself with strings driven through their limbs, their mentor's personal marionettes.

"Oh," Valerie blinked. "They couldn't have liked that very much. Why on earth did you say that? I honestly wouldn't have minded if you had lied, Sam."

"Because Maddie told me to," the ghost hunter replied. "Val," Sam hesitated. "By regurgitating what our mentors think the Council wants to hear, does that make us liars?"

"No," Valerie sounded genuinely surprised. "Like Vlad said, it's just a means to an end, to leadership," her expression turned playful. "And if you beat me to it, you'd better not mess up."

"Likewise," Sam grinned. "You guys want to come over?" she offered abruptly, resulting in blank stares from her friends. "We could watch a movie, or do what normal people our age are supposed to be doing on a Saturday afternoon."

"Normal people?" Valerie echoed. "Why not?" a grin spread across her friend's features. "After all we've been through, we deserve a break, to forget about the Council, the war, everything."

"Do either of you have any idea what kids our age are supposed to do for fun?" Tucker was only half joking. "Not that kicking ghost ass isn't fun and all."

"To be honest, you'd be doing me a favour," Sam laughed. "You can help me convince my parents that I do have a social life."

"It still amazes me that your parents have no idea that you only live at home about two days a week," their tech operative shook his head in disbelief, as Sam merely shrugged.

"Who cares?" Val jested. "It just means there's more Sam to go round for us."

"Yeah, Tucker," Sam assured him. "I honestly don't care. We could go to the park first," the ghost hunter offered. "Soak in some sunshine."

"That sounds great. I can't remember the last time I did anything under natural light," the other girl laughed, as the unspoken sentiment hung in the air between the trio, cold and unforgiving. It was probably best that they enjoyed some semblance of ordinary life, let alone Amity Park, before Pariah's armies razed it all to the ground.

-

"Welcome, gentlemen," Pariah Dark greeted imperiously, steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows at the edge of the impressive mahogany table in the war room, the ring and crown glinting soft and eerie in the firelight.

Seated on his right at the head of the table, Phantom uttered a polite greeting of acknowledgement, his voice clashing and mingling with a multitude of his peers as they extended their respects to the Ghost King.

"I trust that the Lord General has informed you why you are here," their liege supplied offhandedly, as the warlords seated before him nodded in confirmation.

The General willed himself not to seethe in discomfort as half a dozen pairs of eyes were abruptly trained on him, their cruel, calculating gazes digging deep into his skin, waiting for him to falter, or to slip up and perform an unsalvageable blunder.

_Who is he__?_ Phantom's eyes narrowed as he scanned the faces of the other warlords seated around him. Someone amongst his ranks was offering him an alliance, and the white haired ghost was determined to uncover his identity. He eyed the panel of Midians before him discretely as he considered each of them, in turn. Like him, Phantom was well aware there were other peers of the realm who had not joined Pariah by choice. But unlike him, the rest of Pariah's court had been enlisted into the Ghost King's services for several hundred years, significantly more in some cases. Time enough for allegiances to change, both in favour of the King and otherwise.

Who amongst Pariah's court would hold such altruistic motives? The General's scowl deepened as he observed those who were present, curiosity tinged with desperation eating away at him. He needed to know. As it was, he was trapped, with no way out of leading Pariah Dark's invasion of the lands surrounding Amity Park. As little difference as fresh allegiances with Dora and this mysterious warlord would make, Phantom refused to run in blind and proceed with the attack without full knowledge of every resource and possibility of an alternative solution at his disposal.

Disobeying the Ghost King did not pay. Pariah lavishly rewarded those in his service that pleased him, and those he disliked were subtly, or in some cases not so subtly disposed of. Why then, would a fellow Midian take such risks in order to gain his allegiance? _Fellow Midian?_ Phantom raised an eyebrow in bitter amusement. It disturbed him- that he had started to think like the others. He was no Midian, whatever Pariah thought. With just over two decades behind him, he was at least twenty times the junior of the youngest present.

"Shall we begin?" the Ghost King's query was purely rhetorical, as he lay his right palm flat against the cool, varnished wood surface, the Ring of Rage meeting the aged table with a sharp _clack_.

Phantom sought to loosen his taut shoulders as the entire room shifted uncomfortably in near synchronization, refusing to allow his gaze to flicker to the left, even for a moment, to view the Ghost King's hand, adorned with the source of the warlords' mass fear. Not that Pariah would be incapable of slaying them all, even without the ring and crown. It had far more to do with the sheer power that the artifacts symbolised, and the horror of the possible feats that he would be capable of with their aid that the Ghost King utilised with such mastery.

It made the white haired ghost's stomach lurch. He didn't belong here in Pariah's court. He didn't _want_ to belong; he wanted no part in the underhanded dealings and deadly subterfuge amongst ruthless, spoiled warlords who cared for nothing other than the accumulation of power as they vied for the King's favour, in the transparent, gluttonous hope of accumulation of new holdings.

Their degenerate feuds stemmed from the fact that nothing had posed a true threat to the Empire for nearly a thousand years. In their restlessness, the warlords had grown lazy and begun to challenge and sabotage each other for lack of other means of quelling their bloodthirsty urges. The General shook his head as he considered the situation. It didn't help matters that Pariah himself encouraged their disgusting behavior. The white haired ghost fought to keep a growl at the back of his throat. How many innocents had died fuelling his peers' petty ambitions? _You're not so different,_ he reminded himself roughly. How many lives had he himself taken, following Pariah's orders? Even discounting the impending invasion, the body count would only increase with time.

"The plan is simple," Pariah asserted roughly. "So simple that even the incompetent among you will be capable of fulfilling your duties. After all, a complex stratagem is hardly required when dealing with nothing more than human rebels."

The General raised an eyebrow as he regarded his predecessor several seats away. However dire his own circumstances, he could never resist taunting his old rival. To his puzzlement, the Midian merely sneered in reply. Next to the Fright Knight, Prince Aragon wore a similar expression, surveying the white haired ghost as though he was something unpleasant that the draconian Prince had trodden on.

_Strange, _Phantom hid his irritation well, locking gazes with the former General for several seconds more before he turned his attention back to the Ghost King, just in time to preempt his Liege's subsequent command.

"Explain to them the plan, Lord General," the King gestured at his General expectantly, meeting his eyes.

"With the rise of the next full moon, we shall proceed to invade the land areas on the outskirts of Amity Park," Phantom's voice rang clear and harsh in the stark room with high ceilings. "With no access to the surrounding areas, the rebels will be starved out like rats. It will not be long until they are forced out into the open for us to pick off, one by one," he forced a smirk onto his features.

Out of the corner of his vision, the white haired ghost noticed Frostbite quietly studying his body language, the ice beast's thick, white eyebrows drooping as he observed Phantom. A tide of epiphany swept over the General as he shifted under the other ghost's gaze, biting back the inevitable question on the tip of his tongue. Instead, Phantom raised an eyebrow coolly as the other ghost nodded in greeting, breaking their eye contact as Pariah began to speak. This was not the time to be chasing hunches.

"Does anyone wish to veto General Phantom's plan?" the Ghost King questioned, his mind already moving on to other subjects of interest.

His offhanded query was met with dead silence, as the white haired ghost silently despaired, feeling horribly alone.

"Excellent," Pariah Dark's lips stretched into a feral grin as he leaned back into his high backed burgundy armchair, "on to other matters."

It was then that something inside the Lord General broke, as Phantom bleakly decided that he had already remained in the Empire's service for longer than he could bear. He simply had to get out of here.

-

**Author's notes:** Whew. Sorry that I held on to this chapter for so long before posting! Hopefully writing faster hasn't led to a significant drop in quality.

Feed back is appreciated, as usual!

**Hugs and kisses**

**Twisted**


	19. Change

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 18**

**Change**

Phantom hissed, seething as he materialised in his own private chambers in his castle, having teleported himself from Pariah's war chambers the instant that the meeting had been adjourned. The General didn't care that his chosen mode of exit probably came across to all who were present as excessively flashy- he just had to get out of there, out of the cloying presence of overambitious, underhanded warlords capable of anything just to improve their standings in Pariah Dark's eyes. He knew that he had already surpassed the limits of what he could take.

Despite himself, the Fright Knight and Prince Aragon's strange behavior had left Phantom feeling exceedingly unsettled. Dorethea had already informed him that his predecessor had told her brother that the reluctant General had been forcibly recruited. The pair was probably merely smug in the knowledge that they were capable of undermining his supposedly flawless reputation at the Ghost King's right hand.

The white haired ghost knew that that in itself ought not to bother him; he might not have been elected to the head of Pariah's troops for a sufficient length of time to be accepted in the Ghost King's court, but no peer of the realm could plausibly deny that he was very good at his job, and much more capable than his predecessor. _Too good, _Phantom flinched, despite himself. He already commanded the respect of the other warlords. There was very little at this point that his rival and his allies could do to undermine this.

Not for the first time since the night that he had been recruited into the Empire's services, Phantom seriously considered taking Ember and fleeing for their lives. Pariah's promise of pardons and safety was simply not worth the anguish and paranoia they had had to endure over the past months, and the guilt he bore over the countless lives that he had taken in the Ghost King's name.

_Give it time_, the rational part of his consciousness urged him. _You've barely been here for four months. There is time yet._ He crushed that thought mercilessly. There was no more time. Sam had been right all along; all that he had ever been good for was fleeing like a coward. That, and a never ending capacity for excuses. No matter how Ember had pleaded him to try his utmost to settle into his new existence at Pariah's right hand, they had always known that they wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. He had to get out.

What would Ember say if he told her? The General pinched the bridge of his nose in despair as he sank onto his bed. And more importantly- would he ever be able to live with himself whilst harboring the knowledge that he had condemned the rest of her existence to being hunted like an animal? They had been fugitives before, but the Ghost King had been satisfied to leave them mostly alone then, owing to the treaty he had made with the Fright Knight vowing that he would never impede the Empire's war efforts.

Now that they no longer had the luxury of anonymity, spending the rest of their existences in silent exile was simply impossible. Not only that- Phantom was well aware that he knew too much. Pariah would never allow Phantom to leave his service alive, carrying such extensive knowledge of the conditions of his armies, let alone the military plans that he himself had helped to formulate, such as the invasion leading up to the upcoming extermination of the Brotherhood.

_Sam,_ her name was like a knife to the gut. In less than a month, she would be dead unless he could miraculously find another way around it. Sending Ember to warn her had been his final, desperate act. As the Lord General of Pariah's armies, he could do nothing more. And despite the fact that he knew that in the long run, her living or dying made no difference- Sam was, after all, human, and even if she were to survive, he would soon outlive her and spend the rest of his existence being hunted and in misery, all for his reckless actions involving one transient human girl. Providing that he survived defying Pariah Dark, of course.

Phantom's bitter laugh rang out strained and hollow in the vastness of his private chambers as he assessed the situation with the rare criticality of a mind long worn weary from emotional exertions.

She absolutely despised him. He knew nothing about her- and Sam even less about him, judging from her constant misconceptions regarding him. If he were to continue obeying Pariah, he would ensure his own safety, and more importantly, Ember's. They would never have to worry about fending for themselves, leading an elitist existence of sheer luxury. No matter how the circumstances were considered, attempting to save the Brotherhood girl would be nothing but absolute stupidity on his part. There was no merit in constantly struggling to save the life of an ungrateful rebel who wanted him slain by her hand. So why, then, did he want her so badly that it _hurt_?

He wanted… In actual fact, Phantom didn't have a damned clue _what he _wanted, except for Sam safe and at his side. _What then?_ His voice of reason mocked. Sam washuman. Moreover, she was a member of the Brotherhood. Her life expectancy was even shorter than that of a typical citizen of the Empire. Even without Pariah hunting the Brotherhood down like vermin, she would be dead in five years- why not put her out of her misery? And most importantly, was he so deluded that to imagine that Sam would ever conceivably long for him in return? He, who had betrayed her in what she deemed was the worst way possible?

In the end, it all came down to weighing his fear of subjecting himself and his best friend to the Ghost King's wrath and the immense power that he wielded, against his fear of losing Sam. He was damned either way. The very thought of challenging the Ghost King filled him with fear so intense that it left him rigid and immobile, bile and recycled stomach acid heaving its way to the back of his throat amidst the tremors of his abject dread at his demise.

Phantom would freely admit that Pariah Dark's hold on him would not be half as terrifying if his liege did not possess the Ring of Rage and the Crown of Fire. The chances of successful resistance by those who opposed the King were beyond slim even without the magical artifacts to enhance his power. With the Ring and the Crown, the destruction that his Lord and master could wreak was beyond even Phantom's own imagination. His own substantial strength could not ever hope to hold a candle to that of Pariah Dark's. His previous analogy still held true; comparing their strengths was like comparing a matchstick to the intensity of a blazing forest fire.

Despite the Ghost King favour towards the more barbaric, savage methods of warfare, Phantom would never forget- if only for an instant- that his liege was not without intelligence. Before Pariah had donned both the Ring and the Crown, there surely had to have been other ghosts, older spectres who would be capable of challenging the King, had Pariah not had them exterminated perhaps a thousand years ago. It had been his utter ruthlessness that had allowed him to gain control of both the Ghost Zone and the human realm before others of his power and caliber were capable of banding together in order to cease his efforts.

It was this same intelligence that the Ghost King still utilised in the present day to strike fear into the already hardened hearts of his subjects and those who served directly under him- the Crown of Fire to symbolise his rule, and the Ring of Rage, borne on his finger and blatantly displayed before the peers of the Empire as a constant reminder of what were to happen to those foolish enough to challenge him; two simple, material objects that denoted his complete control over both worlds, sigils of his absolute power.

The white haired ghost groaned, burying his head in his hands as he collapsed backwards onto the black silken sheets. He needed Ember, wherever she was. She was probably out running an errand on his behalf, or trying to smuggle human food into the castle for him. Before being enlisted into Pariah's services, Phantom used to despise needing to consume human sustenance in order to survive, as it forcibly reminded him of the severe limitations and weaknesses of his other form, that he would never truly be a full spectre like his best friend.

Now human food, when Ember managed to get her hands on it, had become almost a luxury to him, an escape and a reminder that would never become his predecessor, even if he were to lose his way and aspire to do so. He wasn't even a full ghost, let alone the Midian that the Empire believed him to be, therefore he couldn't conceivably be as ruthless a tyrant as the former General had once been. It was tenuous logic, and deeply flawed in countless facets, yet Phantom still clung on to it with all his might. It was little things like this that helped him keep his grip on sanity.

As much as such little gestures that Ember took the effort to make to keep him sane meant, it was the least of what Phantom owed her in return. It was her doing that he was even alive today. He owed her everything, and yet there was so much that he didn't know about his best friend. The azure haired woman hardly spoke of her time as a human, and Phantom had never asked. It hadn't taken long for him to understand, despite his youth when he had first posed a question regarding her past to her, that it was a tender subject that Ember didn't like discussing.

But in moments of weakness, Phantom couldn't help but speculate, if only to himself, over what his best friend had been like whilst in the service of the Brotherhood. He suspected that he hadn't been much different, especially since Ember's sense of justice was less concrete than that of Sam's. He shrugged to himself. For all he knew, the grey areas in his best friend's occasionally frayed sense of morality could have been adopted only after her demise as a human. Not that he could ever blame her- Ember had been through enough, let alone on his account, for him to ever pass such judgment on her. He owed her this much at the very least.

The General sat up, pushing disheveled wisps of white hair out of his face. Where could he go to work matters out in his head and rationalise them before deciding to speak with his best friend? Somewhere that wasn't permeated with the stench of the Ghost King's power over him. The white haired ghost's brow furrowed in thought. God, did he need to work this all out in his head before deciding whether or not to approach his best friend and beg her to allow him to take the coward's way out and flee.

Phantom bit his lip and frowned. He supposed that he could always make his way down to his stables and tend to Arion. The gargantuan warhorse might not be the best listener at his disposal, but voicing his thoughts out loud to an animal, no matter how intelligent, would never lead to repercussions. Besides, the white haired ghost had always found grooming Arion to be therapeutic.

Running a hand through his hair, he pushed himself to his feet, straightening his garments in an attempt to appear more presentable. Appearances were everything, or so Ember constantly reminded him. No matter how brief the period or how few other ghosts were to witness it, he could not afford to appear scruffy and unkempt, as though he was no more than an adolescent male. He reached for the General's mantle that he had haphazardly discarded nearby on his bureau, throwing it over his shoulders in a deft motion wrought from unwanted repetition.

The white haired ghost ignored the anxious starts of surprise as he threw open the doors to his chambers, walking briskly past the bowing and scraping servants who hurriedly scurried out of his way to avoid blocking his path. The General scowled as he navigated the dark granite corridors; no matter what he and Ember had initially hoped, he still did not want any of this. And now it seemed like he never would.

A maid approached him timidly, her lips already parted as though to ask him a question, when he silenced her with a single sharp look. He was in no mood to be simpered at and asked if the new tapestry in the banquet hall was to his liking. Phantom increased his gait, allowing her to fall behind in order to make a hasty retreat, as he exited the vast main building and entered the lower bailey, crossing the courtyard as he headed towards the stables.

"Hey buddy," Phantom greeted as he approached Arion's stall.

His dark steed ignored him grumpily, turning away from his master as he lowered his head to slurp noisily at the trough of oats before him.

"Had a bad day, boy?" the white haired ghost raised an eyebrow, subjecting the gargantuan warhorse's muscular neck to a few good natured smacks.

The destrier frisked and screeched, bellowing spews of deep red flames at Phantom in annoyance at the unwanted physical contact.

"Whoa," the General took a step back in alarm as the destrier reared onto his hind legs. His mount's impressive wingspan was thrust outwards in an attempt to intimidate, as straw, feed buckets, and all manner of objects were gusted away by the thunderous force of Arion unfurling his great, bat-like wings.

"You're a moody bastard, aren't you?" the General clicked his tongue in annoyance as he dropped the shield surrounding him. "I know that you haven't had much chance to get out recently, but really, there's no need for tantrums, Arion."

The beast snorted, pawing violently at the ground as the flames were parted and effortlessly dispersed by his master. The Ghost King's destriers were bred solely for power and aggression. Perhaps too well, in Phantom's opinion. He had grown rather fond of his own mount, despite Arion's occasional testy mood swings. He didn't blame the warhorse; not really. After all, he had been bred for bloodlust.

"_Now_, are you going to behave?" he shot his mount an amused glance, as Arion harrumphed in irritation. "I hope you're better behaved for the stable hands."

The dirty look the destrier shot him in return was answer enough.

"You really ought to try being less temperamental," Phantom admonished, as he scratched the warhorse's ears. "It's alright for me. You can bellow as much fire at me as you want, but you can't act like such a brat when others are tending to you. It's not like they can defend themselves."

Arion whickered contentedly, as he playfully head butted the white haired ghost.

"Careful," the warlord grunted, as he narrowly avoided having his hair singed by his steed's flaming mane. "I swear, sometimes you just don't realise how dangerous you are, buddy."

The petulant expression on Arion's face was so out of place with his fearsome appearance that Phantom couldn't help but chuckle as he reached for the hoof pick, squatting on the stall floor as he signaled for his mount to raise his foot. "I swear, you're just as bad as Ember is," he commented good naturedly, as he carefully removed dirt from the destrier's horned feet.

"L-lord General," the little stable hand stuttered surprise as he entered, his small hands laden with a fresh bucketful of oats for the beast.

"Evening, child," the General greeted softly, before returning his attention to picking Arion's hooves.

"Do our efforts at keeping your steed displease you to such an extent that you see fit to groom him yourself?" the stable master's apprentice queried faintly, as he set the bucket down outside Arion's stall.

"Not in the slightest," Phantom replied gently, rising to store the hoof pick. "A warlord's destrier is an integral part of his battles. I merely wished to spend more time with him."

"By tending to him yourself?" puzzlement was transparent on the stable boy's features. Phantom couldn't help but envy him. Such honesty was a luxury that the reluctant General could no longer afford. "Are my services no longer required?" the child bit his lips, hesitant.

"No," the white haired ghost sighed, stiffening as he noticed the fear that crept into the stable hand's eyes, "I mean no, I am not dispensing you from my service. You've given me no reason to."

"Did any of others?" the boy questioned softly, referring to the incident in which Phantom had dispensed half of the Fright Knight's previous servants upon inheriting his holdings.

"No," Phantom conceded reluctantly. There was no need to share his fear of espionage within his own walls with the boy. "But unlike my predecessor I am unaccustomed to such extensive luxury. Your job, however, is very important," he forced a grin upon his features. "Arion is my pride and joy. It is imperative that he is well tended to at all times, and you have done an admirable job of it thus far."

"It is my honour to serve you, my liege," the stable lad sank gratefully into a low bow, and Phantom had to fight the urge to reach out and ruffle his fluffy blonde hair.

"A brush, if you please," Phantom cleared his throat awkwardly, as the boy jumped at his request, immediately scurrying off to procure one.

"You ought to be nice to that one," the General chided, laying a hand on the warhorse's muzzle. "You could really hurt him when you're thrashing about. He's barely a tenth of your size."

"Here, Lord General," the stable lad squeaked on his return, handing the horse brush to his liege handle-first.

"My thanks," the white haired ghost responded, and Arion harrumphed contentedly as the first of the bristles met with the side of his head.

"May I watch you?" the child asked timidly.

_Child?_ The white haired ghost snorted to himself. The boy gawking at him with such unreserved hero-worship was likely nearly five times his age. Phantom made a soft noise of assent, brushing gently in the direction of Arion's glossy black coat.

"If the Lord General doesn't mind me asking," the stable lad appeared truly hesitant, "where did the my Lord learn to care for Arion himself?"

"Right here," Phantom informed, as the child blinked in surprise. "I learned everything through observing you and the other stable hands."

"Surely, my Lord jests!" the little stable hand burst out in disbelief, forgetting his place.

"I am not jesting," Phantom shook his head. "It is a worthwhile skill to learn."

"Forgive my outburst, Lord General," the stable hand lowered his gaze.

"There's nothing to forgive," the white haired ghost waved the boy off, returning his attention to his mount, who whickered haughtily at being ignored.

Lost in the calming rhythm of his brush strokes, Phantom's thoughts turned to Princess Dorethea and her mysterious ally. Supposedly, organising his men and making preparations for the invasion would leave the General with no time to seek out new allies. So why did the Midianne choose to approach him now, of all times? Did she mean to extend to him a hand of alliance and friendship before he gave in to the bloodlust of the invasion that lay ahead? The white haired ghost nodded to himself in partial understanding. She feared the emergence of another Fright Knight. That was the most plausible explanation.

As for the identity of her ally, Phantom still had nothing more than a vague hunch. There were nearly a dozen warlords in Pariah's court, some of which most definitely would have motives against the Fright Knight, and would therefore turn to Phantom for support. Of those few, even fewer had intentions that were even halfway noble.

The General had suspected Frostbite the instant the ancient ice beast had been unable to hide the mournful expression that flickered briefly across his features when Phantom had seemingly ruthlessly laid out his plan to overrun the lands surrounding Amity Park, almost as though he was lamenting a fatal blunder in Dorethea's judgment of Phantom's character. Compelled to fight alongside Pariah Dark's armies, the ice ghost's normally peaceful, albeit uncommonly powerful people had been forced to battle the Ghost King's enemies to near extinction. Even the women were not spared; the children only long enough until they were deemed worthy for battle. It was common knowledge that merely hundreds of their once tranquil, populous nation remained.

Phantom exhaled slowly in understanding. It was no wonder that Dora and Frostbite had initially formed their original alliance, perhaps hundreds of years ago. The pair had done so out of fear for their own people's future. Phantom shifted, uncomfortable. The two Midians' motives were far too close to home for comfort. After all, what was he doing, other than struggling to protect the Brotherhood, and therefore the humans of Amity Park, for the sake of a single human girl?

There was no way the draconian Princess could have possibly known, despite her sharp judgment of his true character. And yet, the discomfort remained at the uncanny coincidence that no one could have ever foreseen- was he truly doomed to suffer as the Princess and Frostbite had suffered? He did not know if he possessed the strength that they did to endure.

The General growled at himself in annoyance, a low, soft rumble at the back of his throat. He was getting ahead of himself. Phantom had no idea if this ally that Dora had spoken of was even Frostbite in the first place. His mind was on overdrive from the horror of actually seriously considering defying the King. The white haired ghost was letting his imagination get the better of him, making him overanalysing everything. It was best if he thought upon other matters.

The ghost's advice to himself immediately prompted an image of Sam forming in his mind, her features livid and contorted with hate as she attacked him on the night that he had led the raid in Amity Park, debuting himself as the new General. He shook his head to clear it, as his wretched mind filled itself with images of Desiree's form shifting, as she adopted the guise of Sam, her body broken as she approached him in jerky, halting movements. Phantom inhaled sharply at the memory of her horrible, lifeless lavender gaze. He'd rather suffer through the sheer hatred in Sam's eyes that threatened to swallow him in misery than endure their staleness in death. _No,_ he felt his heart wrenching. _Think upon anything but that._

At any rate, this was an enquiry best saved for a later date. There was no reason to inform Dorethea or her ally of what he possibly planned to do next, for should he decide to do so, it would most likely be suicide. If the pair of them had managed to keep their heads down and out of the Empire's way for as long as they had, they certainly didn't need him to make their chances of surviving into the next century any less slim. Phantom would leave them out of his struggles. He had no business getting them involved, no matter if they held similar standings over the invasion as he did.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but are you happy?" the stable hand's meek question broke Phantom out of his reverie. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had quite forgotten that the boy ghost was still present. "Here, in your castle?"

"Why do you ask that?" Phantom parried, more quickly and more sharply than he had originally intended, his eyes flaring burnished green at being caught off guard before he could stop himself. Arion, sensing his master's agitation, began to rear and snarl.

"No reason," the boy shrunk backwards in terror, a fear that Phantom had seen far too often etched on the faces of his predecessor's victims, a fear that the white haired ghost himself was now responsible for striking in the hearts of the innocent, "my humblest apologies, my Liege," he sank to the floor in a low grovel.

"I'm sorry," Phantom grimaced in apology, placating his warhorse, inwardly disturbed at how rapidly the savage aggression of his fellow warlords was being etched into his very bones. "I was just in deep thought. You merely startled me, that's all," the warlord inwardly winced as the stable hand flinched at the gauntlet-clad hand that the white haired ghost had extended to help him to his feet, before the boy's terrified expression was replaced with one of unreserved surprise at being offered Phantom's hand.

"I meant no disrespect, Lord General," he murmured, clambering to his feet. "It's just that when you were thinking to yourself, you looked so sad. I may be a simple stable boy, but I understand that serving at the King's right hand is just as much a burden as it is a great honour. Has our service provided you with cause to be unhappy?"

"No," the General forced a smile upon his features, succumbing to his previous urge to ruffle the child's hair. "I assure you, I am happy."

He needed to speak with Ember.

-

**Author's notes: **Sorry about the (relatively) long updating time! Initially, I had intended to cover more characters in this chapter, but it ended up being all about Phantom, not that I expect anyone will complain. ;) Writer's block and the lazy bug both decided to bite me at the same time, so apologies for that!

Hopefully now that the difficult bit is over and the plot is going to start picking up speed, the updates will start coming every other day again. As if this chapter wasn't clue enough, some pretty major plot changes are going to hit the **AA **characters pretty much immediately. But for better or for worse, I will say no more. :D

Feedback is always appreciated! :)

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	20. Flight

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 19**

**Flight**

"General Phantom," the Ghost King's baritone voice rumbled, echoing in the vastness of his receiving chambers. "I trust that you are aware of why you are here?"

To his left, the Fright Knight smirked, shooting a satisfied look at Prince Aragon as the pair of warlords stood behind the Ghost King, surveying the Ghost General with identical self satisfied leers.

From his place on the ground where he knelt before the Ghost King, one knee upright and his right fist's knuckles touching the cold marble floor as protocol dictated, Phantom refused to appear repentant. Even if the pair of incompetent fools before him had managed to turn Pariah Dark against him, it no longer mattered. The Ghost King's favour no longer meant anything to him. Let them have their petty sabotage. He had come here for a reason, and he'd be damned if he didn't leave here fulfilling his objective.

Between them, the Ring of Rage glinted on Pariah Dark's fingers, cold and unforgiving in severe promise of what was to come.

He was a lot calmer than he thought that he would be, Phantom noted mildly in muted surprise. Perhaps he was less of a coward that he and Sam had always perceived himself to be. Either that or his fear was so great that his foolish body had no idea how to handle the emotions. Either way, it wasn't as though it mattered. How he felt was inconsequential. He had a duty to Sam to fulfill.

Or perhaps he knew that this was the only way to atone for all the evil that he had caused, for all the lives that he had taken in the Ghost King's name. Accepting this post at Pariah's right hand had turned Phantom into something that he was not, and in the grand scale of things, his life meant nothing when weighed against the hundreds, if not thousands of lives, both human and spectre alike that had been taken by him, both firsthand and under his orders. He couldn't bear to live with himself any longer if he just stood by and did nothing.

"Yes, my King," Phantom's gaze hardened in resolve. Whatever Pariah believed, it was he, not the white haired ghost, who was about to become the victim of ignorance. "I am fully aware of why I am here."

"A bold thing to admit," the King raised an eyebrow in question, subjecting Phantom to a harsh look. "So you concede warning the Brotherhood of our plans to invade," he queried coolly in veiled menace, as the blood froze in Phantom's veins. "Care to explain why?"

This was _not_ what he had been expecting. Before the white haired ghost could stop himself, his neck snapped up, regarding Pariah Dark in actual fear as he knelt before him. There was no reason why his original plan wouldn't still work, but he would have to act far more swiftly than he had originally anticipated in order to escape here alive. "I assure you, my Lord," Phantom murmured. "My primary allegiance is still to the Empire."

"Be that as it may," a note of impatience entered the Ghost King's voice, much to his rival's glee. "You have still failed to answer the original question that I posed: _What in hell's name were you doing consorting with the enemy?_" Pariah snarled, sending Phantom's hackles on the rise.

"I assume that one of them had my chamber maid followed?" Phantom's voice was hard edged with frost as he subjected the other two warlords to a dirty look. "I suppose it cannot be put past them to scurry around, nosing into the business of others like rats."

"But my suspicions were correct, were they not, _Lord General_?" Aragon shot him a look of smugness.

"Hardly," the white haired ghost growled to hide his discomfort. He was running out of time and options. It had to be done, now. "If anything, I have ensured that the rebels will remain in Amity Park for the duration of the invasion."

"That is a tall claim," the severity of Pariah's gaze never waivered, but Phantom could tell that his curiosity was piqued. "And how do you claim to have done so?"

"It was relatively simple," Phantom allowed superciliousness to enter his features. "Humans are pigheaded and stubborn, and lack our intellect. By having a member of the enemy warn them of an upcoming invasion, they are persuaded to disbelief and more inclined to remain in Amity Park."

"_Impossible_," the Fright Knight snarled. "Phantom lies."

"Of course, the finesse of my implementations is lost on the dimwitted behind you, my King," Phantom drew himself up imperiously to meet his adversaries at eye level. "As I have previously stated, my primary loyalties lie with you, and you alone," he bowed low before stepping forward, kneeling once again by Pariah's feet, to kiss his Liege's ring as protocol also dictated.

"Very well," the Ghost King extended his ringed hand to Phantom, scrutinising his features. "You are free of my suspicion, for now."

"Thank you, my Liege," Phantom leaned downwards to press his lips against the large cracked stone ring in respect, making sure to keep his head down to hide the expression of pure terror on his face.

Before he could begin to regret his decision, Phantom opened his jaws, slamming his teeth shut over the Ghost King's index and middle fingers at the knuckle, and before any of the Midians present could react, he let loose a wail that would have shattered his own teeth had there not been a gap open due to Pariah's fingers. He could feel the cartilage in the King's fingers shudder and snap between his teeth at the force of the sonic blow shearing the elastic skin, as he locked his jaws around the fingers and wrenched them free from Pariah's hand.

Simultaneously, at the back of his consciousness, he heard the King roar more in surprise and rage than in pain as he fought to withdraw his fingers from between Phantom's teeth. The white haired ghost was also vaguely aware of several cruel blows landing on the side of his head as Pariah attempted to dislocate his jaw in order to get him to relinquish the Ring. Ironically, the Ghost King's attempts free his own hand aided the severance of his fingers before Phantom's head was dislocated from his shoulders at the sheer battering it had taken. Now, if only he could tell for certain that clattering in his mouth was that of the Ring of Rage, as opposed to the clattering of smashed teeth.

Not even daring spare himself the time to spit to clear his mouth of ectoplasm and blood, Phantom leapt into the air to attempt his escape of the Ghost King's wrath.

"_After him_," Pariah Dark snarled, pointing after Phantom with severed fingers that were already beginning to regenerate. "_He is not to leave my holdings alive_."

The Fright Knight did not need to be told twice, launching himself into the air after the white haired ghost in pursuit, hurling great plumes of billowing purple ectoplasmic energy at the defecting General.

Still reeling in his disbelief at what he had just accomplished, Phantom managed to stop all but one of the blasts that hit him squarely on his left shoulder, jerking his entire arm inwards towards his torso and shattering his clavicle. He lurched as the pain exploded through his form, leaving him spinning and vulnerable in the air, the Ring of Rage rattling horribly against the interior facets of his teeth.

"You will pay for your disloyalty, Phantom," the Fright Knight sneered as he approached for the killing blow, unsheathing his sword in bloodlust at having drawn first blood. "My King grants you a seat of honour at his right hand, and _this_ is how you repay him?"

The white haired ghost desperately scanned his surroundings as he narrowly avoided the Fright Knight's wild swings. His shoulder would heal, but not fast enough to prevent encumbering his escape. To be perfectly honest, Phantom couldn't believe that he was still alive. A fact that he was certain was going to be rectified very shortly, unless he could spot where Aragon had gone. This was why he disliked airborne battles- he had to keep up his guard in three dimensions, as opposed to two. To his immense relief, Pariah Dark himself had yet to join the battle. Phantom might have been in possession of the Ring of Rage, but the Ghost King still didn't deemed him dangerous enough to finish the white haired ghost off himself, something that he was beyond grateful for.

Phantom growled. God, he wished that he had brought Arion with him; the destrier would have made for a far swifter getaway. But his mount was far safer where he was, with Ember. With luck the pair would be able to protect each other sufficiently in the event that they were discovered fleeing Phantom's holdings. Although with the commotion that his actions had just created, not to mention the huge expenditures of ectoplasmic energy sufficient for an engagement between three warlords, Phantom did not doubt that all the eyes of the Empire were currently on him. It was better this way; the white haired ghost gritted his teeth. Ember would have been unable to flee the Empire half as fast unless she took the destrier with her, and he wasn't about to hurt her chances of escape, when his own were already beyond slim.

To the former General's hurt and confusion, Ember had flat out refused to reveal to him where exactly she was going, despite his pleading. Her only promise had been that she would seek him out when the agents of the Empire grew sick of hunting them for the bounty on their heads, assuring him that there was no way that she would be unable to find him, and begged him to have faith in her. And despite his immense apprehension, Phantom had found himself unable to question her further. After all, she was fleeing for his sake, for his recklessness. Asking Ember to take Arion along with her for protection was the least that he could do. He only hoped that he would survive long enough to have the opportunity to see either of them again.

"_I knew that you would defect, scum_," the Fright Knight roar was triumphant, as he closed in for the kill, the Soul Shredder blazing with ectoplasmic energy loyal in his hand. _"First, I will gladly destroy you. Then, I will destroy that traitorous little pyrokine that you keep so close by your side."_

Phantom didn't bother wasting his breath with a retort as an icy, crystalline sword materialised in his grasps in a flash of white light. Ember was gone, and for once he had no reason to fear for her. The former General hastily parried his predecessor's strong blow, well aware that if he had been even an instant too late, the Fright Knight's blade would have struck true.

The force of countering the other ghost's attack shook Phantom's very bones to the core, eliciting fresh, raw waves of pain from his broken left shoulder. Wincing as shattered bone ground against bone, Phantom pressed his free left hand flat against the warlord's thick, burnished armor before the Fright Knight could react further, and released a massive blast of ectoplasmic energy, as powerful as he could manage, putting his all into it.

The Fright Knight's form went limp in surprise, slowing as his injuries began to take hold, a three inch deep, smoldering gouge appearing in the middle of his chest, exposing what remained of the Midian's charred, smashed ribcage, as bits of shattered armor and gouged flesh peppered the sky below them. Already turning, Phantom clenched his fist which still emitted dark tendrils of dense smoke from his attack, and continued his flight, planting his feet against his adversary's shoulders and kicking off as hard as he could to gain more momentum, leaving the other ghost to tumble gracelessly to the ground below. He had to keep moving- that wouldn't keep the Fright Knight down for long, and he still had no idea where Aragon was.

His pursuers might be under the impression that the total lack of a moon in the sky tonight meant that they were all at a mutual disadvantage, but Phantom knew otherwise- he and Ember had planned it so. His bizarre condition rendered him unaffected by the waxing and waning of the otherworldly entity that governed the powers of the other Midians, a fact that he was desperate to use to his benefit. With two against one- three, if Pariah finally deemed him a sufficiently large irritation to join the aerial mêlée, Phantom needed every advantage that he could manage.

Whilst attempting to take a deep, shaky breath through his lips, Phantom fought not to gag as ectoplasm spilled from the Ghost King's detached fingers trickled down his throat. It wasn't then until Phantom realised that the two fingers that he had torn off were still clenched in a vice-like grip between his teeth, the Ring of Rage sitting motionlessly in his mouth, pushed downwards against his tongue at the sheer velocity of his upward escape. The white haired ghost swore as he spat, albeit his violent obscenities came out as nothing more than a harsh gargle as he sent the pair of severed fingers tumbling below him as he gathered speed, noticing the dull glint of the Ring of Rage out of the corner of his eye as it spun and twisted in its descent.

Without a moment's hesitation, he followed it. If he were to relinquish the Ring to Pariah or the other two warlords, he and Ember, not to mention Amity Park, were doomed. His snatching at the Ring threw him off balance, causing him to revolve in mid-air as he narrowly avoided a spiraling stream of ectoplasmic inferno that emerged from Aragon's roaring, draconian mouth. The defecting General had been so preoccupied with his escape that he hadn't even realised that the Prince had used the Amulet of Chaos to transform himself. Throwing up a shield around his form, Phantom didn't dare slow for a second as he opened his right hand, hoping against hope that his rough fumbling had held true.

It had, and Phantom could have wept in relief.

"Seize him, fools," Pariah Dark roared, as he picked up speed, charging at Phantom as he himself finally joined the fray. "_HE STILL HAS THE RING_."

In an action that stemmed from the purest instinct, before good sense had the opportunity to prevail, Phantom slipped the Ring of Rage upon his index finger.

Everything seemed to freeze in an instant; his surroundings slowing to half time Phantom slid the powerful artifact firmly upon where the digit met his knuckle. Abruptly, he could see further than his previously already heightened senses had ever permitted him to see. He could make out and count the numerous murky veins spidering across the translucent membranes of Aragon's dark mauve wings as they beat to keep the stunned warlord in place in the air half a mile away. Out of nothing more than the corner of his eye, he could see the blackened remains of the Fright Knight's torso slowly begin to knit and repair itself as he lay on the distant ground below them.

And most prominently, he could capture and commit unwanted to his memory the motions of Pariah Dark's murderous expression as the he lunged at Phantom, his features consumed by rage, combined with a considerable tinge of fear as the Ghost King finally perceived him to be a very real threat.

And then, it was all the white haired ghost could do to keep himself from contorting in blissful ecstasy, as ectoplasmic energy erupted outwards from his form, cloaking him in its embrace. Almost lazily he dematerialised the ice sword that he had been clutching as though his life had previously depended on it, throwing up a shield around himself, as his other hand channeled a gargantuan blast of sheer energy at the Pariah, negating the Ghost King's equally impressive attack.

_Not bad_, Phantom raised an eyebrow. But he knew that he was capable of better, of _more_. He almost willed Pariah Dark to come at him with far more severe attacks, so that he could tap into his newfound strength, delve deeper into the ectoplasmic energy until he was so full of it that he could hold no more. The _power_- how had he spent his existence without it? With the Ring, it felt as though he could accomplish anything. He _roared_ in triumph; the waves of reverberating sound energy surging towards Pariah in challenge, as Aragon was thrown backwards by the force of the blast which pierced and shredded the flimsy membranes of his wings, rendering the draconian Prince flightless.

The Ghost King grunted in irritation, cutting through Phantom's attack with a flick of his wrist. He ignored his liegeman that tumbled helplessly to the ground below, reverting to his humanoid form. Pariah's effortless defense against his bellow of defiance shook Phantom to soberness. He was still far from invincible- there was yet a disparity in their power. But with the Ring on Phantom's finger and Pariah losing the advantage of being able to use both artifacts together, the odds were stacked far more evenly in Phantom's favour. Still, it was three on one, and Pariah Dark alone was more than a match for him.

He had to get out of Pariah's holdings and bring the fight to deeper into the Ghost Zone if he were to have any chance of escape. Even if he were to take down the other two warlords again, staying put was far too dangerous. The last thing he needed was for his and Pariah's displays of power to send other warlords running to aid their liege's cause. He sped off and his former liege followed, losing the Fright Knight and Aragon as they fell behind, their injuries rendering them unable to keep up.

The former Lord General gritted his teeth in frustration- Pariah was catching up. And now that his original lapse of drunkenness at his newly acquired power had subsided, quiet despair once again slowly sunk in. If he was unable to find a way to escape this pursuit, he was going to be slain at the hands of _Pariah Dark_. Phantom wasn't a complete pessimist, but he still couldn't conceivably think of a worse way to end his existence.

But this was not the end; Phantom hissed. It couldn't be. He would survive this chase. He would survive to see Ember again. To see Sam- his spirits raised and swelled in response. He couldn't die now, not when he had finally given her reason to trust him.

"_Give up, Phantom_," the Ghost King howled in fury. "_For run as you may, I will ensure that you spend the scant rest of your existence ensuring that you rue crossing me_."

Phantom's throat was too dry to retort, it hurt when he swallowed. Yet all he was aware of was his adversary gradually closing the distance between them, until his once considerable lead was reduced to nothing. It was no use. Pariah was too fast, too powerful. His defiance here tonight would likely be his last stand.

Twin streams of crimson erupted violently from the Ghost King's eyes as Phantom dove to avoid them, narrowly escaping as the General's mantle on his back was reduced to nothing more than charred ribbons. He couldn't keep running much longer- Pariah had made sure of that. He was going to have to stand and fight.

"And to think that incompetent buffoon was right about you," the Ghost King's lips stretched into a feral grin. "Whoever would have thought?"

"In case it has escaped your notice, Pariah, I have your Ring," Phantom snarled. "You no longer hold any power over me."

"So you believe yourself to be my _equal_?" Pariah Dark was incredulous. "You will pay for your petulance," the King roared, as the very air surrounding them seemed to grow dense and crackle with red energy as he lunged towards Phantom, leaving the white haired ghost with no choice but to retaliate and meet the Midian head on.

Phantom gathered and drew all the ectoplasmic energy he knew that he could conceivably manage, leading with his uninjured right shoulder as he headed towards the clash, the white haired ghost's entire form blazing burnished green. The Ring of Rage had provided him with previously unattainable strength, he noted grimly, as he braced himself for impact. But judging from the formidable estrus at the Ghost King's command, it was not strength enough.

His teeth gritted in a wordless cry as he was smashed out of the air, crossing his forearms in front of his face as a protective shield surged around him, too weak and too late. Pariah Dark extended his hand, as the King crushed his freshly regenerated fingers into a fist, circumventing Phantom's fall as tendrils of blazing crimson wrapped themselves around the white haired ghost's neck, holding him levitated before the King, completely at Pariah's mercy.

Cursing, Phantom clawed at the spectral rings tightening around and burning his neck, hissing in pain as the red energy ate through his gauntlets, his charring fingers emitting heady wisps of smoke.

"You are a fool to defy me, Phantom," Pariah smirked. "A shame, really- you were the first competent General to serve under me for centuries."

"I want no further part in your madness," the white haired ghost's eyes and mouth blazed bright blue as the temperature around them dropped, as he attempted to negate the horrific burning energy strangling his neck.

The chill of his skin against the multiple blazing rings branding and squeezing against his neck only magnified the pain, as Phantom lurched forward in pain, tears streaking his face as his vision swam. He longed to be sick; and if the bile and recycled stomach acid could have conceivably found a way past the unyielding constriction in his oesophagus, Phantom was pretty certain that he had strength enough to throw up.

"Resistance is futile," a grin stretched across rows of the Ghost King's sharp teeth, as he extended his hand. "Now, give me the Ring."

Phantom's only reply was to spit in his former liege's face.

"You really should not have done that," the expression on Pariah Dark's face turned even uglier.

Abruptly, Phantom found himself thrown backwards by frosty ectoplasmic energy, not of his doing. He looked around in confusion, only to realise then that the icy attack had not been directed at him, but at Pariah, distracting the Ghost King sufficiently for him to release his hold on Phantom, as hot steam surrounded the cruel dictator's form at his negation of the glacial blast.

"Frostbite?" Phantom managed out in disbelief as he massaged his raw, skinless neck.

"_Help me_," the ice demon requested pointedly, his form blazing silvery blue as he began to encase the pair of them deep within a fortress of ice crystals.

Having been left with no choice other than to comply, the defecting General obeyed, aiding his sudden ally in thickening the frosty defenses surrounding them, engulfing them in an eerie, otherworldly silence, concealed from the world outside.

"What are you doing?" the white haired ghost sputtered out, eyeing the other ghost incredulously.

"Aiding your cause," Frostbite replied shortly, eyeing Phantom's left hand. "Judging from the vast increases in your power that you have freely advertised to the entire Empire in your battle, I take it you have the Ring of Rage?"

"You are correct," Phantom grunted as he turned his head towards his unbroken shoulder, spitting as he cleared his mouth of stale ectoplasmic blood which froze even before it hit the icy floor of their small, impromptu fort, the echoes of its clattering with filling their encasement with bizarre musicality that seemed far to whimsical for his current circumstances.

"A commendable act of bravery," the white beast paused, "although some may deem such an act as one of utter foolishness."

"I could say the same to you," Phantom retorted, "I had a hunch that you were the Princess' associate."

"Good, you are not without intelligence," his voice acquired an unexpectedly cheery edge. "Dora did indeed choose well. We would have aided you from the beginning, had you asked," Frostbite's expression was almost reproachful.

"It would have been unfair of me to ask you to throw your existences away for my cause," the white haired ghost snorted softly.

The pair's brief bout of civillised conversation was interrupted as shattered ice shaken loose from the interior of their icy fort rained down upon them from all angles, as Phantom hissed and willed himself intangible before their own defenses skewed them to death.

"It won't be long before he breaks through our shield. And once he does, you need to run," the ice beast commanded roughly, flickering back into tangibility. "I'll hold him off until you can make your escape."

"Are you insane?" Phantom growled in reply. "You are no match for him!"

"Neither are you," Frostbite's grin was determined. "But it is not my intention to defeat him."

It took no more than an instant for Phantom to realise exactly what the other ghost intended to do, as the former General felt himself filled with icy chills that had nothing to do with the sub zero temperatures of their surroundings.

"Let me," the white haired ghost demanded. "Your people need you. I have no such responsibilities to undertake. _You_ take the Ring and run," he insisted fiercely, "I will hold Pariah off. And if it is as you said- if every entity in the Ghost Zone is aware of the battle taking place, it will not be long until the other warlords come to Pariah's aid. I cannot stand by and watch you doom yourself."

"Dora will see to matters for me. We have long arranged an agreement in the event of such unfortunate circumstances," Frostbite appeared resigned. "And even if I were to take the Ring and flee, I lack sufficient strength to defend it. Now, go," the ice beast rumbled. "Leave me to take care of this. Just see to it that the Ring never again falls into Pariah's hands."

"But I never agreed to your offer of allegiance," Phantom provided fiercely. "You are under no obligation to-"

The white haired ghost was cut off as the Ghost King's fist smashed clean through the layers of ice cloistering them off from the outside world, his roar of accomplishment rupturing the previously tranquil silence of their frosty microcosm.

"He's broken through," Frostbite hissed through his great teeth, and in a moment of desperate introspection, Phantom was abruptly made aware that it was more than bestial appearances that made a monster, contrasting Frostbite's beastly appearance with the Ghost King's humanoid form.

Leaving the remains of their icy defenses behind them, the allies fled, invisible and intangible as they willed themselves to place as much distance between them and Pariah before he noticed that they had abandoned their fort.

"I have believed you to be many things, Phantom," Frostbite placed a hand of mordent camaraderie on the defecting General's shoulder, "and I am glad that Dorethea's judgment of your character hasn't proved faulty. But you are being foolhardy," his expression turned dark. "You need to escape now, or my sacrifice will be for nothing."

"I will not forget this, Frostbite," the white haired ghost vowed vehemently, as the other ghost flickered into existence. "Regardless of what happens, I will ensure that my debt to your people is repaid."

"I am glad to hear it," the ice beast's smile was warm.

Reluctantly, the defecting General turned his back on his new ally and fled to place the largest possible distance between himself and Pariah Dark before the Ghost King could realise that he was gone, seeking the safest place to set up a portal for himself to flee the Ghost Zone and enter the human realm as a free man for the first time in four months.

_I will not allow your sacrifice to be for naught, Frostbite, _the white haired ghost gritted his teeth, determination fired by guilt and grief setting in as he hurtled with breakneck speed towards the human realm, towards the owner of the pair accusing lavender eyes at had branded themselves forever into his mind.

Towards Amity Park. Towards hope.

**Author's Notes: **And that is the end of **Arc One**! :D We're officially a third of the way there, woohoo! One thing that puzzled me is that quite a few of you labeled the previous chapter as a filler chapter, which frankly utterly baffled me. I, for one, thought that it showcased a rather pivotal moment in Phantom's life. Then again, hindsight is 20/20, and I have the advantage of knowing what comes next.

And if you're feeling nice, cross your fingers for me, I've been invited to a uni interview early next month! Anyway, I hope that you've enjoyed the chapter, hopefully the next update won't take quite as long! Reviews and concrit always appreciated, as usual. :)

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	21. Arc Two: Redemption

For _Chaos Dragon_. Get well soon, dearest.

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 20**

**Redemption**

Dressed in nothing but her nightclothes and barefoot on the balcony of her bedroom overlooking the gardens of Manson Estate, Sam couldn't help but vehemently wish that this was all nothing more than an ill dream. Vivid green artificial ecto energy flared violently from her ghost gauntlet clad fists, enveloping her pale features in an eerie, almost inhuman glow.

However, other than his nightmarish presence, there was nothing surreal about the worn intruder standing before her, his form battered and bloodied. The muscles in Sam's legs were tense and coiled, her weight primarily resting on the balls of her feet as she prepared to make a lunge at the white haired ghost should he attempt to forego their staring contest and gain entrance to her home.

"I'm glad that you weren't on duty tonight," Phantom greeted softly, breaking their silent stalemate. "It made my task of tracking you down significantly easier."

"How did you find me here?" Sam demanded viciously. "This is my home."

"I was going to seek you out at the Brotherhood," Phantom's tone was apologetic. "But your brethren would have shot me out of the sky before the opportunity to see you face to face presented itself."

"What do you want from me?" the ghost hunter's voice was dangerously low.

"No death threats this time?" Phantom commented softly, raising an eyebrow at Sam. "I suppose that's an improvement. How've you been, Sam?"

The ghost hunter stood in cold, defiant silence as she stared down the ghost before her, her clenched fists burning with ecto energy from her gauntlets as she shook with rage at the utter _audacity_ of the monster standing so casually before her.

Refusing to meet her gaze, Phantom focused on inspecting a particularly sordid injury to his left collarbone where his rough silk shirt was drenched in caking ectoplasm, "I hadn't expected a warm reception, but if I had wished to bring harm to you, I would have done so already."

Clicking his tongue, the white haired ghost wrenched the poorly healed shoulder into two with a bone-splintering _snap_. Despite how her hatred of the enemy really ought to bring her joy in his suffering, Sam couldn't help but wince at the sound, her sharp intake of breath whistling between her gritted teeth.

"You should've seen the state that I was in an hour ago," Phantom grunted as he reset the bone, before ending his elucidation with a chuckle of bitter amusement at his own weakness.

_Slow_, she noticed abruptly, as her gaze focused on the shoulder that Phantom had just realigned. _His healing is much too slow._

Maddie's apprentice's eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation ruthlessly. For a Midian of his calibre to have expended such vast quantities of energy- what could have possibly befallen the Ghost General? Compared to the last high level duel between Phantom and the Fright Knight that she had witnessed, his injuries then were nothing compared to those adorning his form now. For a selfish moment, Sam couldn't help but inwardly smirk, silently thanking the white haired ghost's opponent for dealing out the punishment that Phantom had taken.

The lavender eyed girl's mind whirled with the possibilities- Phantom's presence here tonight, alone and devastatedly wounded, presented an unprecedented opportunity for her brethren. If she could stall for enough time, Sam was certain that there would never again be such a ripe opportunity to slay him. For once, the odds would be stacked slightly more evenly in the Brotherhood's favour, even if the mortalities in attempting such a feat would still be high. She snuck a glance at the moon overhead out of the corner of her eye out of sheer habit than an actual need of verification. A waxing half moon illuminated the edge of her vision, forcing her eyes to readjust from the darkness. It wasn't the most ideal stages of the lunar cycle, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sam bit her bottom lip as she contemplated running indoors to fetch the thermos on her bedside table. Phantom had once told her that he was capable of breaking out of the Brotherhood invention, but doing so would provide him with unwanted inconvenience. But in his weakened state, there was a small possibility that he might be incapable of escaping the confines of the containment device. And it was far more favourable to face the white haired ghost alone, than suffer needless deaths amongst her brethren. After all, the Ghost General had shown significant reluctance in the past in harming her, a failing that the ghost hunter was keen to exploit. That, and Sam was determined to singlehandedly make him pay for his betrayal.

"Not talking, huh?" Phantom leaned resignedly against her balcony to keep upright, as the otherworldly flesh surrounding his clavicle reknitted. "If it makes any difference to you, I no longer serve the Ghost King."

"You're lying," Sam's response was automatic, her form stiffening as the ectoplasm at her fingertips flared once more.

"No," he answered levelly, in a tone that left little room for argument. "I'm not."

"In which case, were you cast out for the same incompetence you accused your predecessor of?" Sam queried in cold satisfaction, despite her previous decision to avoid conversation with Phantom, to prevent herself from once again making the mistake of humanising him.

She would play along for now, but that didn't mean that she believed a word of his treachery. He was attempting to deceive her again- if Phantom truly no longer commanded Pariah Dark's armies, there was no way that he would still be alive. Immensely powerful as the white haired spectre had displayed himself to be, no being, supernatural or otherwise, even came close to the strength of the Ghost King.

"Spare me the insults," the white haired ghost parried tiredly, ignoring the taunt. "Again, if it makes any difference, I defected. Took a couple of Pariah Dark's fingers and made quite a mess of his castle while I was at it," he informed wryly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

"So you fled again," the Brotherhood girl summarised succinctly, squashing the glimmer of hope in her chest that he was telling the truth. "What else have you ever been good for, Phantom?"

"Information, if nothing else," the former General replied. "Unless my presence is so repugnant to you that you cannot endure it long enough to hear what I have to say?"

Grudgingly, Sam's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth as she glared at Phantom, prompting him to continue. Even if the _monster_ before her was about to attempt to feed her more untruths, she could leave no stone unturned where information necessary to the Brotherhood's survival was concerned.

"I'm sure you are aware of this by now," Phantom began, "but Pariah planned to invade Amity Park, to storm the city and force out the rebels."

"Tell me something I don't know," the ghost hunter interjected fiercely, fearing what would happen if she were to allowed their conversation to take any longer than necessary, "Ember's relaying of your message was more than clear- _wait_," Sam's eyes widened, as she stumbled over her next words, not daring to hope against hope, "what do you mean, he _planned_ to invade Amity Park?"

Despite the gravity of the wounds interspersed across Phantom's slowly healing form, the former Lord General of the Ghost King's troops managed to curve his lips into a knowing smirk that still garnered him to be more of a force to be reckoned with than an utter fool. "Let's just say that he's been forced _reorder his priorities_, for now."

"I don't understand," cold sweat trickled down the nape of Sam's neck to her back as her voice acquired a hard edge, "what are you saying, Phantom? Did you just come here to gloat over your escape, or do you actually have information of value to the Brotherhood?"

"Amity's safe for now," he paused, "or it will be, the instance that I leave, and make my presence known elsewhere."

"What are you talking about?" Sam questioned pushing her dark hair out of her eyes as she regarded him in worn out confusion, sick of waiting for the ghost before her to finally fill her in with the details. He had always been this way, right from the moment that she had met him. Despite how servitude under Pariah Dark might have changed Phantom, prying answers from one as stubborn as him was still an exhaustive task.

"You just got here. If you've truly defected from Pariah's circle of warlords as you have claimed, then you possess invaluable information about the condition of the Empire's armies that must be relayed firsthand to our leader at once," lavender eyes bore into green with unrelenting determination.

"I'm leaving," the white haired ghost replied shortly, and Sam instinctively knew that she had not imagined the bitter wistfulness lacing his tone. "If I were to remain here, my actions this evening would have been for naught."

"I'm surprised that you turned your back on the Ghost King and walked away with your existence," Sam commented, crossing her arms to stave off the chills of the cold night air. She regarded her former ally with suspicion as she took a calculated risk, laying her cards on the table. "How do I know that you weren't sent here to once again deceive us? After all, you've left me very little reason to believe you."

"Ember has always known where your headquarters reside," Phantom reminded her brutally. "If I had truly desired to lay waste to the Brotherhood, the rebels would have long since perished. And I don't necessarily need your trust if I can guarantee that Amity Park will escape Pariah's wrath unscathed," he growled. "But what would it take to convince you that I am on your side?"

"Stay," the ghost hunter replied curtly. "Defend Amity."

"I can't stay," the white haired ghost snorted softly in frustration. "Christ Sam, don't you understand? "Believe me," Phantom gritted his teeth. "Others have paid dearly for my reckless actions. I am not going to belittle their sacrifices to linger here on a whim."

A violent chill shot up the ghost hunter's spine at his words, her glare softening as she gazed upon the fury of his countenance, so evidently fixated on vengeance. "She's been slain, hasn't she?" Sam murmured softly, unsure if she _wanted_ to know the answer to the question she was posing. "Ember McLain?"

Ember couldn't be gone; not yet. Not before Sam's debt to her was repaid. Whatever the flamed haired ghost's reasons for betraying the Brotherhood, her mentor's former partner had still chosen to lend Sam her aid when she had needed it the most. Ember had sacrificed to keep Sam alive, even giving up her old ghost gauntlets that she had used in active duty. Whether she had done so for Phantom's sake or Maddie's was irrelevant. Sam refused to be eternally indebted to a ghost, yet loathe as she was to admit it, the previous festering jealousy that the ghost hunter had felt for the former Brotherhood member had been replaced with what could almost amount to grudging respect.

"I don't know," Phantom's replied bitterly, gripping the balustrade as his upper body coiled in anguish. In that singular, fragile moment the ghost who wielded such terrifying power and struck fear in the hearts of countless appeared to be no more than a young man, lost and confused, and despite herself, the ghost hunter could not stop her heart from going out to him in his fear for Ember.

Despite the path that the azure haired woman had chosen, she had once been a part of the brotherhood, one of Sam's brethren. It had been a conclusion that the ghost hunter had been uneasy about reaching, but the night that Ember had rescued Sam and her partner, beseeching her to bring word of the impending invasion to Maddie, the pyrokine had proved that whatever her motives were, her lingering affection for the Brotherhood – for Maddie – was still genuine._ She was more than a good partner, _her mentor's voice echoed in Sam's mind, her tone heavy with sadness. _To me, she was a good friend. The best._

"I'm sorry," Sam offered, shaken as she realised that not a shred of doubt pertaining to Phantom's apparent defection from Pariah's services remained in her mind. "If she's managed to escape, do you have any idea where to start looking for her?"

"No," the bitterness in the former General's voice thickened and curdled, "I don't."

"So the two of you never discussed escape plans? Did she even know that you were going to defect?" the violet eyed girl queried incredulously. "Surely you would have foreseen-"

"She refused to tell me where she was going," for the first time that night, Phantom truly appeared to be at a loss. "I bade her to take Arion along with her for protection," he hissed. "But we were both fully aware that it might not be enough."

Before Sam was even fully conscious of what she was doing, the tips of her fingers were brushing comfortingly against his gauntlet clad forearm as they leaned over the balcony overlooking the Manson gardens, as Phantom met her gaze in surprise. It wasn't until then that Maddie's apprentice noticed the thin silver bracelet encircling her wrist, realising that sometime down the line, she had unconsciously deactivated her ghost gauntlets and closed the distance between them.

"You'll find her," she affirmed, brutally dispelling the twang in her chest of an old jealousy she had long since put to death, "I know you will."

"I will," the former General gritted his teeth in steely determination. "I'll start looking for her the instant I leave Amity Park."

"You can't leave," Maddie's apprentice protested fiercely, the unspoken sentiment lingering in the air between them: _I don't want you to go. Not yet._ "Now that you're no longer enlisted under the Ghost King's services, you have the chance to actually do some _good_, for once. You can't run away," her voice was laced with frost as a measure of her old anger returned. "I'm sick of watching you take the coward's way out."

"I can't stay. Don't you see?" White eyebrows furrowed in desperation. "I escaped to save Amity Park from destruction. My lingering would spell its doom. Pariah knows that I have links in Amity, which makes this city the first place he'll tear apart looking for me. Compared to his invasion plans, the danger that you would be in when he hunts me down will be multiplied tenfold."

"Why?" Sam demanded in exasperation, planting her fists firmly on her hips as she her gaze locked with his, willing herself not to break contact as cold spikes of fear scuttled their way up her spine. "Phantom, what have you done?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he began helplessly, rummaging to untie what appeared to be a small bundle of rags from his formerly exquisite belt. "But it seems that I'm going to have to be a burden to you once more."

"What have you done?" she repeated with more conviction, willing herself to stop shaking as she silently begged for her hunch to be far off the mark.

"In a few hours, the former General of the Ghost King's armies is going to be sighted at the other side of the world, as far from Amity Park as physically possible," Phantom paused momentarily to allow the magnitude of their current situation to sink in. "In order to regain what is dear to the King, the Empire, perhaps even Pariah Dark himself, will give chase in an attempt to subdue him, and Amity Park will be saved from being reduced to rubble. For in comparison, a handful of rebels will become a tuppence to be dealt with at leisure when compared to a rogue warlord of Pariah's elite –"

"_Oh god_," Sam interjected with a strangled whisper. "_You didn't_."

"Which makes this city the safest place in the world to hide this," the ghost steeled himself, resolute as he unfurled the scrap of fabric that had formerly originated as part of the General's mantle.

For some reason beyond her comprehension, even before her line of vision focused on the artefact glowing eerily in the moonlight, illuminating the tattered fabric on which it rested, Sam had already instinctively identified the tiny object as the Ring of Rage.

"How did you –" Sam grappled for the appropriate words to respond with as helpless terror of forthcoming repercussions ate at her form. Yet simultaneously, for the first time in months, the first ray of hope of the Brotherhood's survival began to blossom in the ghost hunter's chest at the incredible feat that Phantom had accomplished. With Pariah Dark's power diminished...

"I told you that I took a couple of his fingers," Phantom exhaled, regarding the stunned ghost hunter in dark mirth. "I should have deigned to mention which ones. I think you would agree that it's evident why I can no longer remain in Amity Park?" The white haired ghost favoured her with a significant look.

"Y-yes," Sam fought to keep her knees from giving way. "But there's no way that the King will ever let you get away with this," despair for his well-being bubbled and rose from the pit of her stomach, a sick feeling that the ghost hunter didn't fight to keep back.

"I know," a small smile crossed the former General's countenance. "Which is why I'm entrusting the Ring of Rage to you."

"_What?_" the Brotherhood girl's head snapped upwards as their gazes locked, not daring to believe anything other than that she had misheard him. "What did you say?" she repeated nervously, taking a step backwards despite herself.

"I'm leaving the Ring with you," he affirmed gently, his tone laced with what could almost be classified as tenderness.

"You can't," she floundered lamely, "I don't want it."

"I have already proven myself to be no match for him," firmly, Phantom grasped her left hand with his right as he tilted his other palm, allowing the Ring of Rage to tumble into the ghost hunter's trembling grasp. "This is the only way, Sam. If he hunts me down and the Ring of Rage is still in my possession, Pariah will destroy me and reclaim it, and all this will be for naught," softly, Phantom's fingers enveloped hers as he closed her fingers around the Ring, the air between them sparking at the contact.

"_I hate you_," she hissed weakly, unable to stop her vision from swimming with tears as she gripped the spectral artefact so hard that it bit into the soft flesh of her hand. "You can't do this to me."

"I don't understand," he intoned slowly, confusion painfully evident on his features. "I've brought you the Ring of Rage, Pariah Dark's sigil of his reigning power," never before had Sam seen him so vulnerable, "shouldn't that be sufficient for redemption in your eyes? Shouldn't everything be alright between us?"

"Things don't work that way, Phantom," Sam bit the words out. "Nothing's that simple."

"And why shouldn't it be?" he growled. "Are you looking for an apology, Sam?" he challenged roughly. "Is that what this is about? Because I'm not going to provide one. You're well aware that the Empire threatened Ember's well being if I failed to comply with Pariah's demands. And for that one reason alone, I am not sorry that I joined them," raw emotion bled as his eyes searched hers. "I'm not sorry for what I was forced to become."

"You're still the enemy," she uttered bluntly, endeavouring to ignore the hurt that flashed across his features at her rejection of absolution. How could Phantom possibly bring himself to gaze at her with such tenderness, when the last time that their paths had crossed, she had named him a monster? And even worse, she had sworn to his face to slay him with her own hand.

"Perhaps," the white haired ghost paused, as his lips set into a grim line. "But this enemy has also just delivered half the power of the Empire into your hands."

"What do you want from me?" Sam couldn't hold back the confused desperation lacing her tone, as she clutched at the Ring of Rage nestled in the palm of her left fist.

"Nothing more than your forgiveness, Sam," Phantom assured her softly, as he released his grip on her dominant hand. "I swear it."

"Why should I believe you?" once again, the ghost hunter posed the challenge, but even she could make out the battering that her convictions had taken from the tremors in her voice.

"I'm a wanted man in both realms," the former general elucidated bitterly. "I've lost everything valued by my kind. Power, influence, the Ghost King's favour…" Phantom's voice trailed off. "And far worse, I have no idea where in hell's name my only friend is, or if she's even alive. And even when I was being blackmailed into leading Pariah's troops, I saved your life, and repeatedly attempted to warn you to leave Amity for your own safety," his eyes flared burnished green, "Believe it or not, I have nothing to lose anymore. What motives could I possibly have to lie to you?"

"You cannot ask this of me," she protested faintly. "If the Ring of Rage is ever discovered to be in my possession, it'll spell the Brotherhood's end."

"But you're human," he argued. "Pariah will never sense the Ring's location if you don't put it on."

"What if this _thing_," Sam's lip twisted, "contaminates me? I've seen firsthand what exposure to ectoplasm has done to Maddie –"

"God, Sam, I'm not asking you to wear it," Phantom growled. "I just need you to keep it safe until we can figure out how to destroy it. However," he paused, hesitant. "If you are ever in sufficient danger, promise me you'll use the Ring's power to defend yourself."

"No," Sam replied fiercely, revolted by his audacity to even suggest it. "I'll never become like you. And you can't leave it here, either. When Pariah finally tracks you down, he'll kill you," she stated bluntly, ignoring the beads of moisture accumulating at the corners of her eyes as well as the voice at the back of her head telling her that it was no longer merely the safekeeping of the Ghost King's Ring that they were arguing about, "you'll need to be able to defend yourself."

"I'm a dead man anyway, even if I go into hiding," his laugh was hollow as he turned to overlook the garden below them. "We might as well make sure that I die for a worthy cause."

"So this is goodbye, then?" Sam queried hopelessly as she timidly rested her head on his shoulder, wishing that she could summon up the courage to touch him.

"Apparently so," Phantom agreed, as a gauntlet clad hand reached out to smooth her hair. The Brotherhood girl did nothing to stop him, closing her eyes as she leaned instinctively into his touch.

Despite herself, Sam couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if things had worked out differently between them, if the white haired ghost has agreed with her initial request for him to fight alongside her brethren, almost a year ago. Or better yet, she sighed wistfully, if only Phantom had been born six hundred or so years later, if he were human. But loathe as the Brotherhood girl was to admit it, if Phantom were human, would she remain as blithely drawn to him as she was now?

"You should go," the ghost hunter murmured mournfully after a moment of enjoying each other's company, coming to her senses. "If you are spotted in Amity Park, then all this will be for nothing."

"You're right," he acquiesced reluctantly. "Goodbye, Sam," he whispered, bowing in departure as he raised the back of her hand to his lips.

It was the one shred of indulgence that neither should have allowed the other, as Maddie's apprentice tried to ignore the feel of his lips pressed against the back of her hand. She struggled to look away, her heartbeat pounding in her chest in an all too persistent staccato.

Phantom, similarly, appeared to share her reluctance in letting go as his form visibly stiffened, drawing himself up to his full height as he stared at her in askance.

Don't," she warned, her voice strained, as his grip on her hand tightened. He had to leave. Now, while her sanity was still retrievable. Every second in his presence was causing her self control to unravel.

"Don't?" he repeated softly, intertwining their fingers.

"This is wrong," Sam strove to keep her voice from shaking, yet unable to summon the willpower to snatch her hand from his.

"This is wrong," he acceded, looking at her as though in challenge.

Their gazes locked, and Sam couldn't suppress a shiver at the intensity of his stare. The last time Phantom's gaze had held this terrifying, yet exhilarating ferocity, the ghost hunter had found herself caged between the white haired ghost and a brick wall, with no means of breaking out of his grip. But that was then, and this was now. Back then, despite how the very thought of the former general made her sick, a part of her had still longed for his touch when she had been pinned against him, regardless of his betrayal.

Now that he had proven his loyalty to her all along... The most unsettling fact of the matter was that if he were to repeat his previous actions, Sam wasn't sure if she'd want to escape.

She had a thermos in her room, on her bedside table. Hell, she even had a communicator within reach. The ghost hunter could tell her team members what was happening. She could call for help. Given how reluctant Phantom had always been to reveal himself to humans other than herself, that in itself would probably be sufficient to scare him off. Sam knew that she alone could put an end to this, because it didn't look as though Phantom was prepared to back down.

This was all wrong. Lavender eyes squeezed shut, as she struggled to make sense of the whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires running through her head. The back of her hand still tingled where his lips had met her skin, and Sam had to struggle against the mounting urge to run her own fingers over it.

_He's a ghost,_ her surviving reasoning screamed. _You can't trust him! _But from the way he was looking at her, how could she bring herself not to?

Phantom must have grown tired of her indecision, for he gave her no warning before crushing his lips against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that left her breathless and weak kneed.

Returning the kiss, Sam's mind went black as she clutched at him wildly for support, her left hand still curled around the Ring of Rage as she threw her arms around his neck, her legs encircling his waist. The white haired ghost stumbled forwards, and Sam tried not to wince she was propped roughly on the top of the balustrade with a dull thud, fully aware that she was going to bruise. And before Sam's mind could keep up with the absurdity of the situation he had kissed her again, running a hand through her hair with surprising gentleness.

"We shouldn't be doing this," her protest sounded weak even to her own ears.

"No," Phantom murmured in agreement, but made no move to quell the fiery trail of butterfly kisses along the base of her neck, as his other arm enclosed her waist to prevent her toppling several storeys down. "We shouldn't."

Sam had to wonder if the ghost was even really listening to her as her top was turned intangible and pulled from her form, before being promptly discarded behind her to flutter down into the garden below. Their gazes locked and his unspoken sentiments lingered between them, as real and as feverish as the intoxicating feeling of his fingers on her skin: _But we are, and you've yet to stop me. _

Then their hips grazed as he laid a hand on her thigh, drawing a shaky whimper from the ghost hunter's throat, a sound she was only half aware that she was making in response to his ministrations. It was strange, Sam thought, raising a hand to stroke his cheek as he nibbled gently on her sensitive ear lobe. Despite the icy chill of his lifeless body, every time his lips brushed her skin, the ghost hunter half expected to find herself branded by the heat.

_You're being propositioned by a ghost_, her failing rationality moaned. _If Maddie ever finds out what you've done, or what he intends to do-_

His right thumb ghosted across a nipple as he cupped her breast, and Sam lost what little train of coherent thought that remained, taking with it all mental objections protesting the insanity of her current situation. The ghost hunter didn't stop the mewl that escaped her lips as he started to knead the pliable flesh in his grasp, her lithe form relaxing softly into his touch as their lips once again met. After all that she had given to the Brotherhood, surely her brethren could not deny her this one fleeting moment of happiness?

The end of Phantom's amused chuckle caught her attention, subjecting Sam to an abrupt onset of embarrassment about how damned _vocal_ she was being, as she was forcibly reminded of the teasing that he used to subject her to when matters had been far less complicated between them. Despite herself, the lavender eyed girl scowled. She ought to smack him, bite him, pull at his hair, anything to let him know that his teasing wasn't appreciated. The smug bastard she was straddling seemed to have nearly nothing in common with the remorseful Midian begging for her forgiveness just moments before, yet _God_ – how she'd missed that smile.

"_Phantom_," her admonition was curt, yet all objections regarding his behaviour died on her tongue the instant his started its descent down the pale expanse of her exposed breasts, his lips finding a nipple.

He hummed distractedly in reply, too preoccupied for a proper conversation to be held. And although Sam wouldn't go as far as to say that she missed his self-satisfied teasing, Sam knew that even though things between them weren't back to the way that they had once been, nor was she sure that they ever would be, Phantom had come back to her. For now, that was all that truly mattered.

Her nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, as her palm flattened against his chest, trailing appreciatively down the sinews of his torso. Sam's legs, still wrapped around his waist from when she had hoisted herself against him for support, tightened their grip as her left fist unfurled to untangle the windblown knots wrought from battle in his white hair.

It wasn't until Sam's hand was comfortably interwoven between his locks that she managed correlate the sharp, startling _clack_ that seemed to reverberate out of nowhere with her realisation that in opening her hand, she had dropped the Ring of Rage.

Coming to her senses, she started away from Phantom as though she had been burned, her eyes scanning the marble floor for the Ring before she realised that the white haired ghost was doing exactly the same thing, but not before he could hide the hurt that flashed across his features at her initial panic. Clearing his throat as she stooped down to retrieve the Ring, he busied himself with doing up the buttons of his ectoplasm stained shirt. Judging from the fact that his previously exquisite shirt was now in no fit state to ever be used again, the act struck Sam as altogether pointless.

"Forgive me," Phantom muttered nearly inaudibly, running a hand through the stark white of his hair as he pointedly averted his eyes from her bared chest.

"What for?" Sam replied breathlessly, crossing her arms to regain some measure of decency as she strove to regain her composure. "It was a lack of discipline on both our parts."

"I have to go," the ghost's tone was apologetic as he gathered her half dressed form in a tight hug. "I've already stayed far longer than I expected. Any longer and I'll be endangering you and the rest of Amity."

She strained on her tiptoes to reach his lips with hers as she pressed a final, relatively chaste kiss to his lips, her moist tongue grazing his bottom lip as she fought to keep her own mounting sadness at the transience of what had just transpired between them at bay.

"You're right," Sam struggled to force a small smile of encouragement to cross her features. What Phantom was about to attempt on Amity's behalf was most likely going to spell his doom; she ought not to make his life any more difficult.

"Promise me you'll stay safe," he supplicated.

"You know I can't promise that," she laughed softly in reply. "Don't let Pariah slay you," she raised her chin as she regarded him, turning his request on its head.

"You know that I can't promise that either," he echoed in bitter mirth.

"Survive," she demanded, making no move to stop the hot tears streaking abruptly down her cheeks as he released her. "Survive, and come back to me."

Phantom appeared taken aback by her display, and her own sudden honest, heartfelt disclosure of her emotions mortified Sam far more than her physical exposure. Abruptly, she was cruelly reminded that no matter what had just transpired between them, they were still enemies, and the next time that she saw him would probably be in battle, with her brethren after his blood. And she would still aid them, she realised – she would never forgo her duty to.

"I still can't promise that," tenderly, he cupped her chin before a far more familiar, bestial expression overtook his features, that of a warrior's bloodlust. "But I can promise that I'll do my damndest."

"_Go_," she whispered, fully aware that if he didn't leave now, he probably never would, an indulgence that their current precarious circumstances could not afford.

Subjecting her to a final lingering glance, Phantom ruffled her hair almost as though he was placating a small child before he dematerialised in a blinding flash of white light that robbed Sam of more than just her vision, leaving the ghost hunter to fall to her knees, speechless and feeling oddly alone in the starkness of the night.

**A/N:** Happy V-day, everyone! :D A slightly longer chapter this time.

I've now gotten a place at med school, so fingers crossed I'll be churning out the chapters at the speed that I was previously. I'm rather eager to move forward with the plot, as you can probably tell from the leaps that the past two chapters have taken. Do let me know if you enjoyed the chapter.

As always, concrit is greatly appreciated! :)

**Hugs and Kisses,**

**Twisted **


	22. Waiting Game

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 20**

**Waiting Game**

Dawn broke in the city of Amity Park, bringing with it a new era of change.

Despite the early hour of the morning, the city's streets had been packed with civilians the instant the previous night's curfew was abated, gossip rife without reservations or discretion amongst the braver citizens of Amity regarding what had truly come to pass the previous night. The Empire-wide public message regarding the defection of the traitorous former Lord General Phantom had been on broadcast on every channel for six hours straight now, and the humans were beginning to clamour for answers where there were none, resorting to mass speculation and the birth of several scandalous conspiracy theories that had Sam laughing at the mere notion.

Maddie's apprentice navigated her way through the streets of the city, her legs nearly giving way beneath her in utter exhaustion wrought from too many sleepless nights. Normally, the ghost hunter never had a problem grabbing sleep when she could find it- her body had long since accustomed itself to combat unwanted insomnia on the rare occasion that sleep was an available option, since insomnia was a luxury that those of the Brotherhood could not afford if they wished to stay alive, or even worse, if they rendered themselves completely useless to their brethren in such tumultuous times.

But the previous night had been Sam's last night off for the week, and thanks to Phantom, the ghost hunter had gotten little to no sleep. Neither had anyone else in the Brotherhood, for that matter. It wasn't long after the white haired ghost had removed himself from Sam's presence before Pariah Dark's long arm of influence nearly caught up with him, as Phantom's defection was made public and he was branded a perpetrator of attempted high treason.

The breaking of dawn also marked the a sharp decrease in the powers of the enemy until the next evening, and Maddie had instructed for their brethren to gather at headquarters in their entirety the instant they were assured of safety on the streets in the event that they had to protect rioting civilians. Which was where the lavender eyed girl was currently headed, after six hours of hastily organised patrol on her mentor's orders. The last thing the city needed was to break out in mass hysteria. In these chaotic times, the spectral authorities overseeing Amity Park were bound to be far less lenient if the humans residing in Amity overstepped their bounds. Sam grimaced; the situation was probably identical all over the world, if not worse. If humans in other parts of the world had begun haphazard attempts to question their ghostly occupants, it would spell mass carnage.

All in all, the ghost hunter didn't mind working herself bone weary to the ground. It was her duty. And if anything, forcing herself to complete one harried task after another on their leader's orders helped keep her fear and confusion concerning the recent turn of events at bay. Busying her mind with damage control and how to safeguard the ordinary civilians of Amity Park was proving useful in banishing Phantom from her own mind, and the recollection of what had transpired between her and the former Ghost General along with it. Certainly, cleaning up after the mess that the idiot had left behind for her was distraction enough.

Yet once again, it was too late to stop her mind wandering idly- in dismay, Sam bit down hard on her lower lip to distract herself from the scarlet heat rising in her cheeks as she unwontedly relived the memory of their fleeting intimacy. In retrospect, Sam wished that she and the former Ghost General been granted the luxury of time enough for her to summon the courage to ask him what in hell's name last night was, and what it meant for them.

All things aside, the ghost hunter now knew without a doubt that Phantom cared for her. It had been much easier to deny the fact when he had still been enlisted in Pariah's services, when communication between them had been almost impossible, despite Phantom's repeated efforts to contact her through Ember. Her mentor's former partner, too, had presented a more than convincing case that Phantom was truly concerned for her well being. But such knowledge was significantly more difficult to accept coming from another woman's lips.

Despite herself, Sam couldn't help but wonder. Had she not forgotten the immense importance of the object in the palm of her hand the previous night and so thoughtlessly discarded it from her hand in favour of entangling her fingers in Phantom's hair, she wouldn't have spooked both herself and Phantom into leaving off where they had.

The lavender eyed girl was not blind regarding Phantom's intentions that evening, had they not been interrupted. And neither was she blind to her own. Pursing her lips into a thin, trembling line in an attempt to dispel the flush evident on her pale complexion, Sam every inch of her was aware that if she hadn't unwittingly let go of the Ring of Rage and sent it tumbling down to patter harshly against the marble of her balcony floor, she, a member of the Brotherhood in contention to lead the next generation of their brethren, would have given in to her lust for a ghost.

Was she as good as a blood traitor? Sam blanched; at least the blood traitors she had been taught to revile merely served under ghosts- she had nearly allowed a ghost to bed her. Even if the ghost hunter had miraculously managed to think straight for a smattering of an instance long enough to invite him inside, the pair of them had already been too far incapacitated in their haze of desire to have made it even the short distance to the bedroom. Wistfully, despite the sick sensation of guilt numbly worming its way up her gut at her inexcusable behaviour, Sam had yet to decide if dropping the Ring of Rage was in itself a blessing compensating for her appalling judgement, or an opportunity wasted.

Before she could stop herself she had instinctively raised a hand to clutch at the Ring of Rage hidden beneath her clothes, where it lay suspended on a long cord between her breasts, hidden from prying eyes. Not daring to let the Ring of Rage out of her sight for even an instant, the ghost hunter had decided that she would keep the Ring on her at all times for her own peace of mind. She cast a suspicious glance at those around her, unable to believe that they had yet to sense the paranoia and nervousness radiating from her form, wishing that she could summon the willpower to soothe her own nerves. After all, there was no reason for anyone to suspect that she held the Ring of Rage in her possession, even in these times of change.

It was true that change had come to the streets of Amity Park, but whether the changes were for the worse remained to be seen. Word of the Fright Knight's reinstatement as Lord General of the Ghost King's troops spread had been thus far met with surprised speculation. Within twenty four hours of Phantom's stand of defiance against the Pariah Dark, wouldn't be a soul, living or otherwise, in the far reaching corners of the Empire who wouldn't be aware that Pariah's new monster on a leash had been cast out and replaced by his old favourite.

Caricatures of Phantom littered the streets, the paper soggy and the ink running from the abrupt downpour that had afflicted Amity Park earlier that morning, distorting the former Ghost General's features in some cases beyond recognition, blacklisting him a traitorous coward urgently wanted for crimes against the Empire. Despite herself, the ghost hunter stooped to pick up a copy, once again noting the extravagant bounty on the white haired ghost's head, which went on to specify that he was to be captured and brought to Pariah Dark in fit state to be questioned.

Sam quirked an elegant black eyebrow in dark amusement, drawn to the fact that the wanted notice did not deign to specify Phantom's _exact_ crimes against the Empire, let alone the reason that Pariah so desperately required him captured instead of slain. It was to be expected, really. Pariah Dark was not about to embarrass himself by admitting that a fellow Midian had managed to get close enough to successfully land a blow on him, let alone that the King had failed to slay said Midian, who had escaped with the dreaded Ring of Rage, the sigil of his rule and power. The Ghost King could not to afford to allow anything to tarnish his fearsome image, no matter how powerful his adversary.

The Ghost King had always been seen as invincible, infallible, a notion that the ghost hunter herself had also believed until the previous night. While Phantom himself was a supernatural being of unimaginable strength, it brought Sam some measure of comfort from the fact that she could finally dispel the bleak myth of Pariah Dark's indestructibility from her mind. Her logic was bloodcurdlingly simple- if the Empire's ruler could be wounded, then the Empire's ruler could be slain. Phantom's act of defiance would reduce the King's standings in the eyes of the Empire if it was discovered that the great Pariah Dark was _nigh_ untouchable- almost invincible, but not quite. A dubious vulnerability really, but still, the knowledge was more than Sam could ever have hoped for.

Pariah's downplaying of the event that had occurred the previous night drew a second emotion from deep within the ghost hunter's exhausted form, a tiny flutter of timid relief beginning to swell and rise in her chest. While it was more than clear that the Empire's search for Phantom would be cruel and uncompromising, Phantom had yet to anger the Ghost King sufficiently to prompt Pariah Dark to leave the Ghost Zone and hunt him down. Either that, or despite the Ghost King's immense rage, he still did not deem the white haired ghost a large enough threat to merit sacrificing the illusion surrounding his own invincibility when he was certain that the situation would still end on his terms. Lastly, it was also possible that Pariah's delegation of the task of tracking down Phantom to his subordinates could be seen as his blunt refusal to regard Phantom as an equal.

Whatever the Ghost King's real reason, for the first time in her life, Sam found herself desperately thankful for Pariah Dark's crass arrogance. She was just as aware as Phantom was that the instant that the King set foot into the Human Realm instead of assigning the task to his various subordinates, it would all be over. Sam was confident that Phantom would be capable of dealing with other warlords, owing to the fact that the white haired ghost had previously been heralded as the strongest of Pariah's elite by the Ghost King himself. Regardless if such was truly the case or propaganda of Pariah's own design – Sam smirked in satisfaction at how that particular machination had backfired on the Ghost King – Phantom could still buy himself time, perhaps time enough for him to see her again before the situation escalated. Perhaps, then, they could figure out how to destroy the Ring of Rage before Phantom's inevitable destruction.

Despite the despondency of the situation, the ghost hunter could not help but long for the impossible- that Phantom would somehow find it in himself to defeat Pariah Dark and abolish the Empire. She knew that she was allowing her infatuation with Phantom to cloud her judgement, for they were high hopes, impossibly high hopes that she was well aware would never be realised. Furthermore, Phantom had entrusted the Ring of Rage into her safekeeping, putting himself at a severe disadvantage if the white haired ghost was ever to engage the Ghost King in combat.

With a start, Sam was disturbed to realise that her contact with Phantom had decayed her principles to such an extent that for the first time since she had been enlisted into the Brotherhood, _she_ was the one hoping for rescue, and from a ghost no less. As a member of a rebel army fighting to overthrow Amity Park's occupation by the Empire, the very notion was unacceptable.

The ghost hunter had never been the type of girl who harboured foolish fantasies of rescue by a knight in shining armour, and this was not the time to start, just as the Ghost King's patience had been tested to its very verge. Sam suppressed a bitter laugh, recalling the night that Phantom had debuted his standing as Lord General in Amity Park, atop a destrier as dark as sin in all his terrible glory, and the undulated fear he had stricken deep within her at the ominous regality he commanded. No, she decided, Phantom was certainly no white knight.

But as matters currently stood, the ghost hunter knew that she was possibly the only human in the world that had any idea of what had truly transpired the night before, that the former Lord General of the Ghost King's armies had strength enough to best the King, however momentarily, and seize the Ring of Rage. And for the first time since the Empire was wrought, Pariah Dark was incapable of using both artefacts concurrently to severely augment his powers, leaving him with a realistic vulnerability to exploit.

So however unacceptable her desperate faith in Phantom, Sam refused to be sorry for harbouring the precious knowledge deep within her heart that perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for them all.

-

London was a lot wetter than Phantom had imagined it to be.

Grunting, the outlawed hybrid crushed the paper cup that had formerly contained some of the worst brewed coffee he had tasted in his lifetime, offhandedly pitching the offensive object into the river several hundred feet below him as he tried to shake the feeling of incompleteness assaulting his senses. More than ever, he hated the severe restrictions imposed on his abilities when he turned human, almost as much as he hated his near defencelessness. But for now, it was a necessary precaution that he would have to endure. His pre-emptive endeavour to buy himself time enough to recover would be for nothing if his ectoplasmic signature was identified by agents of the Empire.

Invisible and roosted on the arching blue and white supports of London's Tower Bridge, the dark haired man's height above the ground gave him ample opportunity to survey the city beneath his feet. Despite the fact that the teeming metropolis beneath him was perhaps ten times the size of Amity, with a far greater population density to match, the Empire's influence on the city of London was still everywhere to be seen. The time differences dictated that he had arrived in Europe just before daybreak, to a bleak and empty city still lifeless from the night curfew instilled upon them by Pariah's ruling.

Just like in Amity Park, the scent of fear permeated the streets, stronger and more persistently than Phantom had ever sensed, with his own actions purely to blame. Now with the Fright Knight back in power, the blue eyed man was unsure as to the fate of the human lands occupied by the Empire's rule. Whether he could bear to admit it to himself or not, Phantom knew that he had approached his enlistment into the Ghost King's services as Lord General of the Empire with ruthless savagery that could challenge even the most malevolent of his predecessor's dark deeds. Whether he had done so out of his own choice or not was at this point, irrelevant. He was too far gone down the path of destruction to hope to ever find succour in redemption. Even if one day he no longer found himself despicable, the outlawed ghost wondered if his conscience would ever be free from the taint of blood.

The humans would want answers, yet Phantom could hardly bring himself to understand why it mattered to them. The political struggles between the power hungry warlords of Pariah's court hardly concerned ordinary civilians- in his experience the results were the same, whatever the name of the monster bringing death and suffering under his rule. He supposed that it was nothing more than simple human foolishness, as though knowing the name of the one responsible for their deaths brought them a small sense of solace, of sorts. Not that he had any right to judge, after all that he had done.

His entire form still hurt, and his body's sluggish attempt to repair itself was sapping his already scant strength. Phantom was fully aware that he had placed himself in an extremely precarious position. The events of the past night had rendered him horribly drained, leaving the ghost in a state of such primal fatigue that transcended merely being limited to his preferred form. The former Ghost General groaned, resting his forehead against the cool white railings of the suspension bridge. He closed his eyes, fumbling in exhaustion as he attempted to locate the fifteen duplicates that he had sent out to plant false trails of his whereabouts all over the world.

He had run into a measure of trouble in Shanghai some hours prior, a minor quandary not helped by the fact that remaining in his human form limited the intricacies of his control over duplicates to such blunt finesse that he had slew the local Night Police forces assailing him before he could attempt to hold back long enough to discover what the Ghost King intended. Not that it mattered, at any rate. The bounty on his head was indication enough that Pariah wanted him captured without delay.

He probably could have sent more duplicates, Phantom considered. But a clever ploy would eventually be revealed to be just that, and nothing more, no matter how complex he deigned to make it. In his present state expending himself any further would leave him pitifully vulnerable.

In addition, he supposed that it was best that the copies which he sent out maintained at least some measure of sentience. His attempts to fool the Empire as to his true whereabouts would fail if splitting himself into too many fragments left each duplicate so weak that it became apparent to even the lowly local Night Police of the area that they were dealing with no more than an attempt to mislead the Ghost King. It was best not to spread himself too thin, especially when Sam had made it more than evident that she wished for him to survive, and return to her.

_Sam..._ The white haired ghost didn't fight to suppress the goofy grin that overtook his features. Sam didn't hate him. And considering that not even twenty four hours ago she had wanted him slain by her own hand, for now, that was enough. Surely, the ghost hunter could no longer doubt that he cared deeply for her. In retrospect, he was thankful that his actions the previous night had not frightened and repulsed her. Phantom had half expected her to push him away the instant that he had captured her lips with his own. And yet, the ghost hunter had needed no encouragement to reciprocate his attentions.

He had been pleasantly surprised by how warm she had been. Ember had always been deathly cold, even as she climaxed. He enclosed a hand over his left wrist, frowning as he detected a weak pulse of life as his arteries distended and recoiled beneath his skin. Even on the rare occasions that he transformed into his human half, he barely noticed such warmth from his own form, whereas the ghost hunter had been pulsing and teeming with a warmth and life that he would never experience.

The ghost supposed he could understand the source of his kin's bloodlust, and the unbridled cruel joy wrought from spilling the blood of a living being, liberating and spattering the red elixir of life from its disgustingly transient confines within human veins. For all their superiority and disdain for the human race, Phantom was well aware that an undercurrent of envy was always present amongst his kin. After all, had they not walked amongst the living once?

For now, Phantom had no choice but to leave Amity Park in Sam's capable hands. He had already averted Pariah Dark's plans of storming the city and forcing the human rebels out like vermin by his act of treason against the King. There was nothing more that the outlawed ghost could do to aid the citizens of Amity Park – due to his actions, the city where both he and Sam had grown up in was safer now than it had ever been.

Now that Phantom had handed Amity a lifeline, he did not doubt that Sam and her superiors at the Brotherhood would not waver in banding together to defend their town. But whether they would be successful in their endeavours still remained to be seen. Whether Sam liked it or not, humans were still physically the weaker species, regardless if she hated him for thinking it.

He did not doubt the Brotherhood's resourcefulness and ingenuity in managing to elude the Empire for nearly a millennium, but war brought with it violence and bloodshed. No amount of inventiveness would ever be capable of fully rivalling his kin's sheer talent for slaughter. That was why members of the Brotherhood trained all their lives to oppose their occupants, whilst battle came so naturally to those of the Empire.

Things had been so much easier before he had met Sam, Phantom decided, his lips quirking into a fond smile despite himself. Without her, his standing in the war would most likely have remained neutral, as opposed to his current less than favourable circumstances, with both sides wanting him dead. Not that he'd ever wish that things had turned out differently. He was glad that he had saved the Brotherhood girl, even if the act had sealed his own demise.

Even so, his current predicament was not entirely Sam's fault. Due to his longstanding rivalry with the Fright Knight, with his predecessor intent on shedding his blood, Phantom had always predicted that this day would come. A clash with the Empire had always been inevitable, right from the start. Even if the dark haired man had never met the ghost hunter, he would never have been able to live with himself if he had chosen to remain in Pariah Dark's services.

For the first time in years, Phantom wondered if there was truly something wrong with him. A being with his levels of strength would typically be ruthless in his own endeavours to advance his power and influence in the Empire under the Ghost King's rule. Was it truly only due to his upbringing under Ember's care that he had developed a conscience, or was his mortally hindering desire to do good an innate part of who he was?

While it was true that his unusual _condition_ would pose a severe handicap against the warlords of the Empire sent to subdue him and bring him back to the King, Phantom now saw that his unusual ability to alternate between the two forms on the rare occasion that he chose to become human was not completely without benefits. The only leverage he could hope to gain against the Empire was their ignorance of his condition.

Doubtlessly the warlords to whom Pariah had assigned the task of capturing him would endeavour to engage him in combat just before the new moon. Now that the Empire falsely believed that he held the Ring of Rage in his possession, and moreover, since he had proven himself capable of holding his own against the Ghost King himself, Phantom doubted that the Pariah would send a single Midian to handle him alone. When his pursuers finally located him, there was no uncertainty in the dark haired man's mind that they would hold the advantage of numbers.

Perhaps it had been for the best that he and Ember had gone their separate ways after all. Phantom's eyebrows furrowed. Each time he thought upon her, the outlawed ghost found himself filled with the most acute, agonising worry. Wherever his best friend currently resided, Phantom could only hope that Ember was faring better than he was, that she and Arion had escaped successfully and were keeping each other safe, that the head start he had given her before confronting the Ghost King had garnered her enough time to escape unscathed.

While refusing to divulge answers, the azure haired ghost had attempted to convince him that her intended location of flight would provide her with far greater protection than Phantom himself would ever be able to manage. Moreover, Ember had refused to handicap him by tagging along and ruining his own chances of escape. They would see each other again shortly, she had promised. It was all only a matter of time.

It seemed like every time Phantom finally thought that he knew everything about his best friend, Ember would turn around and surprise him. The ghost had always thought that the pair of them were isolated from the rest of the world, with no allies on either sides, let alone allies powerful enough to ensure the blue haired pyrokine's safety in such treacherous times. But Phantom had never been one to pry. Similarly, Ember had never been one to give complete answers. Whatever her reasons, all the outlawed ghost could do was trust Ember's judgement in that what she was doing was in their best interests.

Whoever her allies were, Phantom could only hope that Ember would manage to convince them to aid their cause, to help him and his best friend stave off destruction by the far reaching arms of the Empire. Abruptly, it was brought to the former Ghost General's attention that the value he had attached to his own life had drastically increased. Two days ago, before he had abandoned his post as the Ghost King's right hand man and fled the Ghost Zone bearing Pariah's Ring, Phantom wouldn't have cared if he had lived or died, no matter how brutally he was slain.

But now that Sam had made it plain that she wished for him to not only remain alive and well, but to return to her, the fatigued former General finally felt as though he had something to live for, that he _wanted _survive, for reasons other than the fact that he owed it to Ember to protect his best friend, whom he was eternally indebted to, at all costs. His resolve strengthened as he took to the air, leaving London's Tower Bridge behind him as he landed invisibly on a civilian filled street, silently merging with the crowd.

Digging his hands deep into the pockets of his dark jeans, Phantom decided that he'd might as well continue his search for a better cup of coffee than settle for that atrocious roadside brew that he had previously managed to find. After all, for now, all he could do was wait for the Ghost King to make the first move.

**Author's Notes: **Whew. Sorry, I actually meant to have this chapter posted by yesterday, but my brain simply refused to work for me. Thanks to the lovelies who stopped by my DA journal to comment on the snippet that I posted yesterday, and sorry again that I didn't meet the deadline that I said I would!

Un/fortunately for you guys, **Anathema's Abode** has somehow managed to spring a prequel, mostly made up of additional details and backstories that I never managed to find an appropriate moment to include. The prequel will be updated depending on how much of the original plot I've covered, since quite obviously a lot of its content will lead to you being spoiled rotten if I posted it before **Anathema's Abode** itself!

As usual, concrit would be lovely! :)

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Twisted**


	23. Happenstance

**Anathema's Abode**

**Chapter 22**

**Happenstance**

"Brethren," Maddie Fenton's voice rang clear and unwavering in the confines of the Brotherhood's underground headquarters. "Thank you for your haste. I am sure you are all aware as to why you are here."

Standing at the front of the crowd that had gathered, Sam crossed her arms, her eyes trained on her leader and mentor as she braced herself for what she would say next. She was not the only one. All two hundred odd of the Brotherhood's members had assembled in alacrity at Maddie's orders, all waiting in dreaded anticipation of what was to come.

In spite of her petite size, the Brotherhood's leader commanded the utter attention of all those present, her authoritative presence emanating fiery resolution that affected even those standing in the furthest corner of the underground conference room. Despite being flanked by her husband who towered over her, or the other members of the council who had assembled behind her, their faces woven into similar expressions of gravity, there was no doubt as to who was in total command.

"Forgive me for putting you in danger by asking us all to gather here, under one roof. I would have relayed instructions via our communicators, but I thought these are words best heard from my own lips," Maddie paused for a breath, and you could hear a pin drop in the silence as they strained to catch their leaders next words.

"Firstly," her mentor continued, "I thank you all for dedication to our cause. I know the past seven hours haven't been easy on any of us. I suppose we should be thankful that the ordinary civilians didn't find cause enough to riot."

Maddie's statement was met with similar murmurs of shared tired relief.

"It's been seven hours since the Former Lord General Phantom was cast out of Pariah's elite and replaced by our old friend the Fright Knight," her lips pursed into a thin line. "As of yet, we've not managed to establish what caused the conflict of interest, although it's pretty evident that the Empire is desperate for Phantom to be subdued. The best we can hope for is that Phantom manages to destroy several Midians of high standing before the Empire eventually slays him."

Despite herself, Sam could not stop her insides from knotting with worry at the offhanded manner in which her mentor had relayed Phantom's imminent demise. While it was true that the white haired ghost had handed them a lifeline, Sam was still heartbreakingly aware that her new ally was no friend of the Brotherhood.

"To be honest, the previous Ghost General's defection couldn't have come at a better time," the Brotherhood leader's lips curved into a smirk. "The Empire is hardly going to bother with a handful of rebels when they have a rogue warlord on the loose."

Raucous jeering followed the red haired woman's words, leaving Sam with a dull feeling of claustrophobia. _You can't claim credit for any of this,_ she found herself thinking bitterly. _All of you owe Phantom your lives._ Her palm was pressed to her chest before she could stop herself, drawing comfort from the Ring of Rage nestled in between her cleavage in an effort to quell beginnings of a persistent niggling in the back of her head telling her that she no longer belonged.

The ghost hunter had been far from the last to assemble in their underground conference room that in itself wasn't much more than a concrete box nearly a mile beneath the Fenton residence. Yet, Sam was well aware that the dangerous nature of the information she possessed was perhaps too sensitive for the ears of typical members of her brethren, which had thus far prevented her from relaying information regarding Phantom's true aims to their leader, for risk of being overheard.

It was best if as few people knew about the Ring of Rage as possible, Sam had decided, and Maddie's apprentice had no doubt that her mentor would agree with her judgment call once it was brought to her attention. Doubtlessly the Empire would be desperate to reclaim the artifact, and even copiously trained members of the Brotherhood might well crack when subjected to interrogation and torture by the Night Police. As much hope as her possession of the Ghost King's Ring might bring to her brethren, it was information best shared with the masses at a later date.

Despite herself, the choice that Sam had made left her biting her lip in agitation. The ghost hunter could not help but feel oddly guilty for allowing her mentor to address their brethren and relay goals decided on by the Council based chiefly on false assumptions that were within her power to dispel. Depending on what their leader had decided on with the advice of the Council, Sam was well aware that her possession of the Ring of Rage could well make or break their leader's current plans.

It was too late to dwell on that now, the lavender eyed girl told herself firmly. Maddie had already begun to address their brethren. Telling her mentor about Phantom's true intentions and the Ring of Rage would just have to wait until immediately after this meeting. She was not about to dishonor her mentor by interrupting her mid-speech.

Hugging herself, the ghost hunter kept her eyes trained on her mentor, pointedly ignoring the looks of concern that her team mates shot in her direction at her subdued behavior as she stifled fresh pangs of regret. This was the first time that she had ever kept anything from Tucker and Valerie. Even when she had sought out Phantom against Maddie's orders, the two of them had been right there with her to watch her back, even if they found no reason to believe in her cause.

She would tell them about the Ring of Rage, Sam decided abruptly. They had been through too much together for her not to. Besides, she trusted the pair of them as explicitly as she trusted her mentor. There was no way she'd ever be able to live with herself if she wasn't completely honest with them.

Sam was well aware that her first blunder was her failure to inform Maddie that Phantom had sought her out to share information and deliver the Ring of Rage into her hands the instance after the white haired ghost had fled her home. But instead, she had collapsed mutely on the floor of the balcony outside her room, too stunned by the recent turn of events to even think about her foresworn duty to the Brotherhood, let alone notice the midnight chills wracking her sparsely clad form.

Her mentor's voice had roughly broken her out of her reverie by way of an urgent message personally delivered via the small communicator grafted onto the inside of her ear, requesting her and Valerie's immediate services in ensuring that unrest was kept off the streets of Amity Park. Sam knew that she should have told her mentor then- she ought to have blurted out the news to Maddie the moment their leader made contact with her. Yet, for some reason unknown to the ghost hunter, she had chosen to keep what had occurred between Phantom and herself just between them, if only for the time being.

To be honest, fear of incrimination from her association with Phantom had never crossed Sam's mind. It wasn't as though the ghost hunter would ever be selfish enough to allow her own weak fear of disciplinary action doom the Brotherhood. As far as she was concerned, whatever penances the Council would device for her, she would duly accept. Punishment for her ridiculous actions was long overdue, spanning back to when she had first laid eyes on Phantom nearly a year ago.

The dark haired girl exhaled shakily. Attempting to barter with the white haired ghost to ally himself with the Brotherhood despite her mentor's express prohibition had been the first of her unforgiveable mistakes.

When she had first attempted to negotiate with Phantom almost a year ago, the mere thought of defying a direct order from her mentor terrified her, more so than any impending repercussions should she be discovered. Of course, she had feared greatly for Tucker and Valerie, in the event that it was revealed that they had aided her for some of it. But at the end of the day, it had been her willingness to disobey a command from their leader, no matter her good intentions or how immensely difficult she had found it, that afflicted the ghost hunter to no end.

Now, with that initial mistake buried six feet under beneath layers upon layers of untruths, Sam found that temporarily withholding mortal information that could potentially doomed the Brotherhood in its entirety hurt a great deal less than it should, let alone admitting to herself that she had nearly allowed a member of the enemy to proposition her. In fact, at that very moment, Sam couldn't feel anything other than an icy numbness that threatened to overtake her. _No_, reluctantly, the ghost hunter corrected herself. There had been no '_nearly'_ about the situation. If she hadn't spooked Phantom with her thoughtlessness, there was no way to sugar coat the fact that they would have ended up having sex.

Maddie's apprentice blinked owlishly at her own bluntness, as she struggled to bring about a response of disgust from her own form that refused to come. The very revolting notion of the words _ghost_ and _sex_ being used in the same sentence ought to repulse her to the point of nausea, yet all Sam could envision was his lips crushing hungrily against hers, her legs straddling and squeezing his waist, his fingers caressing and trailing across her skin with chilling, terrifying intensity that left her hopelessly wanting more.

_Stop it,_ her mind whimpered. _Not here, never here. Will you defile every last principle that you stand for? _Shaking her head to clear it, the ghost hunter abruptly realised that she had blanked out and totally lost track of her mentor's thread of speech. _You're disgusting_, she told herself, repulsed by her own actions.

"– whatever Phantom's intentions concerning the Empire, it is doubtful that he will be successful, no matter how large a following he manages to gather in order to challenge Pariah," their leader continued, and Sam trained her ears to catch the end of Maddie's next sentence, silently berating herself for her lapse of concentration.

"Are you okay?" Valerie mouthed in concern, noticing how pale and shaken her friend appeared.

"I'm fine," Sam bit out as she attempted a smile. "I'm just tired."

"Loathe as I am to admit it," their leader continued, her voice gaining conviction despite the desolate nature of the news she was about to deliver, "Pariah might consider us a much easier threat to deal with and finish us off for his own peace of mind before turning his complete attention to seeking Phantom. Of course, all that we have discussed here this morning is all nothing more than speculation until our intelligence affirms why exactly the Empire is so desperate to have Phantom in their custody."

_I should have told her sooner_, Sam lamented helplessly, the guilt threatening to smother her as she clenched her fists, shaking with silent self hatred. _All this pointless speculation isn't helping anyone._

Mistaking Sam's trembles of self revulsion for those of fear and despair, Paulina silently approached the other ghost hunter, gathering her into a tight hug. "Be brave, Sam," the pretty Latina cooed consolingly. "I know it's hard, but we have to be."

"Oh, babe," Star whispered, brushing dark hair off Sam's face in comfort. "It's all going to be okay. The Council will figure it out."

"Stiff upper lip, Manson," Dash added with a wry half grin, as Valerie slipped her hand onto hers. "You're good at that, aren't you?"

"I don't deserve your sympathy," the lavender eyed girl murmured quietly, shooting a pleading glance at Tucker and Val. The rest of the apprentices in training wouldn't understand, but at the very least her partners understood some of her crimes against their brethren and would leave her to mope in peace, even if the pair of them were not aware of her actions the previous night; her thoughtless, indulgent actions that were sufficiently repellant for her to be branded a blood traitor.

"What do you mean," Kwan's brows furrowed in puzzlement. "What have you done, Sam?"

"Nothing," to her surprise, Tucker's eyes glinted with comfort and warmth as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sam's done nothing wrong."

"We'll get through this," Valerie affirmed, her features glowing with the same determined aggression that Sam saw every night on her partner's face as they patrolled their section of Amity together. "All of us, together."

Their ignorant platitudes left Sam wanting to weep.

"Letting the power hungry Midians destroy each other puts us at no disadvantage. Henceforth, our priority remains to ascertain if Pariah Dark still intends to swarm Amity Park with Night Police in an attempt to flush us out," Maddie's expression hardened, the tension amongst their brethren stiffening until it could have been sliced with a butter knife.

Catching her apprentice's eye, Maddie subjected Sam to a look of puzzlement at her uncharacteristic lack of stoicism, before she turned her attention back on the crowd gathered before her. "Until the enemy makes the first move, it is imperative that we continue defending this town as our brethren before us have done. But change has come to Amity, and similarly, change must come within our ranks."

Their leader paused briefly to allow her recent words to sink in, and it wasn't long before murmurs of curious conjecture followed. Sam took a deep breath, unable to shake the latent feeling of foreboding that something was about to go horribly wrong.

"This brings me to my final objective for this morning." Maddie cut through her subordinates' murmurs without waiting for them to die down. "In order to defend Amity Park in these dark times, it is inadequate for the Brotherhood to remain merely on the defensive."

Beside Sam, Valerie nodded in vehement agreement, as the atmosphere in the conference room was swept up in a tense flurry of silent anticipation.

"To protect those we care about, and each other, we have no choice but for the covert nature of our syndicate to be compromised, in favour of more aggressive strategies to break their hold over us. We will no longer merely patrol the streets of Amity," their leader's voice acquired a glacial, ruthless edge. "Hence, the Council has decided that our dozens of discreet patrol teams are to be reorganised into larger, more efficient attack squads with immediate effect. From this moment forward, any member of the enemy's kin is to be attacked on sight."

The beginnings of their brethren's wholehearted cheering sputtered and died as Maddie held up her hand, requesting silence. "In addition, as leader of the Brotherhood, it is on my authority that these newly reorganized teams are to report directly to my apprentice and heir, Samantha Manson."

Sam felt as though she had just been shot out of the sky as two hundred heads swiveled from all directions to regard her, their gazes holding a mixture of disbelief, admiration and newfound respect. The ghost hunter's own sightline was trained on her leader and mentor, as Maddie smiled slightly in support at her. Maddie's apprentice's lips parted as she struggled to form words, desperately searching her mentor's abruptly hard, unreadable eyes for some semblance of answers.

Trembling as she took greedy breaths, she silently willed them to avert their stares she recalled the horrifying night when she had confronted Phantom, shortly after he had debuted himself as the new Ghost General, and how he had so simply, yet unspeakably violently, thrust her into the air with nothing more than a flick of his finger, leaving her hurtling at breakneck speed towards her death with no means of escape from the clutches of gravity.

Yet, the feeling of helplessness that had threatened to eat her alive then paled in comparison to the utter desolation Sam was experiencing whilst being pinned under the watchful, expectant eyes of her brethren. Before she could stop herself, she had torn her gaze from that of her mentor's, taking a half step backwards in utter incredulity at the recent path that events had taken._ No, _she breathed. _This is all wrong!_

"Sam?" Tucker voiced in concern, as the ghost hunter turned faintly to regard him, still too numb with shock to register the various congratulatory responses from her fellow apprentices, sinking woodenly into the group hug initiated by Paulina and Star.

Behind him stood Valerie, her features hardening in mistaken comprehension as her partner stared Sam down with stony silence. Sam winced; Valerie had to be thinking that her previous uneasiness had been due to her nervousness in knowledge of the new position that she was about to be appointed.

"For now, this is all that I have to share," satisfaction permeated the Brotherhood leader's tone. "You are all dismissed to claim some well earned rest. You've earned it, brethren."

"Maddie," Sam began in protest, starting forward the moment her mentor's dismissal left her lips.

Dash made a move to pull her aside to congratulate her, but he was deterred by a discouraging glance from Tucker. At the back of her mind, the ghost hunter heard her tech operative suggest that the rest of her peers took their leaves and left her be for the time being, but she had far more pressing matters to try and set straight to even care if Tucker had even been the least bit diplomatic in requesting that they left her alone.

"Well done, Sam," Lancer congratulated, patting her on the back on his way out of the conference room. "You've certainly earned the honour."

The rest of the Council passed her without a word, but strangely enough, Sam sensed no hostility whatsoever emanating from their gazes. Their acceptance at her appointment into a position that nearly equaled their own was made most evident by Jack, who favoured her with a hearty wink of encouragement. Even Tetslaff seemed content to let Maddie's statement slide unchallenged, save for a quick glance at the Brotherhood's leader prior to scrutinising Sam, before her gaze once against settled on Maddie's features, as the two Council members shared a nod of tacit understanding.

Amidst the buzz of fresh rumours flying amongst her brethren as they departed the room, Sam couldn't help but wonder. The Council's acceptance of her appointment prompted the question- had her appointment been a unanimous decision, or had Maddie acted alone? Most likely, her mentor hadn't told anyone about the machination that she had just pulled in order to ascertain that Sam received the Council's full attention in the coming battles that lay ahead. Either way, Sam was disturbed to realise that her superiors hadn't exactly gone up in arms to try and circumvent Maddie's decision to appoint her. Not that she deserved any of it, after the crimes that she had committed against her brethren.

"Maddie," she tried again as she neared her mentor, only to be silenced with a look as the Brotherhood's leader raised a hand to stop her from approaching.

It was then that Sam realised that Vlad Masters had beaten her to a confrontation with Maddie, his blue eyes frosty as he regarded her in poorly veiled contempt.

"That was a low blow, Maddie," Vlad's lips were pursed into a grim line. "Even for me. I never would have expected it of you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," despite the lightness of her mentor's tone, it was evident from the red haired woman's eyes that she was on guard against any accusations she expected to follow.

"We both know why you just pulled that stunt," the silver haired man's words were impeccably calm and measured. "But I would've thought you of all people would have been above sabotaging Valerie's chances."

"I did not do so to undermine Valerie's position in the eyes of the rest of the Council," Sam's mentor maintained. "Our new attack squad needed a leader, and my own apprentice was the best candidate."

"Valerie is every bit as deserving as Sam is- _perhaps more_, and you know it," bite entered Vlad's tone, before he paused in consideration. "Or maybe you don't," the Council member voiced curiously, as he eyed Sam in speculation.

And somehow, despite the fact that the lilac eyed girl trusted her best friend and partner with her life, Sam could not shake the feeling that Valerie's mentor knew a lot more about her encounters with Phantom than he was letting on. The ghost hunter shook her head to clear it. Carrying the Ring of Rage was making her stupid and paranoid. There was no way that Valerie would ever betray her trust.

"You knew," Valerie accused, lurching Sam back to reality and forcing her to take her attention off Maddie and Vlad's argument. "All along, you planned this with Maddie."

"No," Sam murmured leadenly in reply, her insides still twisting in shock. "I would never do this to you, Val, you have to believe me," she supplicated desperately.

"I don't believe you," her partner's voice was laced with frost. "I thought we were friends."

"We are," Sam replied in hurt, "the best. Val," she whispered. "I had no idea, I swear."

"The two of you need to take a step back," Tucker reasoned as he massaged the bridge of his nose in weariness. "Before either of you say something that you'll regret."

"It doesn't matter," Valerie bit out, as she noticed Vlad storm away from his previous disagreement with Maddie. "I'm done."

"Valerie," Sam called after desperately, as her best friend turned her back on her. "_Val,_" she tried again, more insistently, as her partner ignored her cries and followed her mentor out of the vast, now empty room; despair eating at the ghost hunter as she watched Valerie leave. The only thing keeping Sam from sinking to the cold concrete floor in misery was the fact that she now had a mentor to confront.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam couldn't keep the accusatory note out of her voice as she spun on her heels to face her mentor, unsettled to realise that she was on the verge of tears.

"There was no time," Maddie explained, her forehead wrinkling in bemusement at her apprentice's vehement response. "I would've thought your new position would make you happy, Sam."

"What gave you that idea?" her apprentice voiced, her retort coming out harsher than she had initially intended.

"Both Vlad and I have done much worse in the past whilst competing against each other for the honour of leadership," a cold, uncompromising note that left little room for argument entered Maddie's tone. "This is just the beginning, Sam. Vlad isn't going to take this lying down."

"Of course he won't," frustration entered the ghost hunter's voice. "You've just willfully placed Valerie at a huge disadvantage."

"You'll thank me for this, Sam," Maddie's expression softened, the motherly look of concern returning as she tenderly brushed stray locks out of her apprentice's eyes, "when you're older you'll understand."

"I don't deserve any of it," the ghost hunter floundered helplessly, as her mentor squeezed her hand in encouragement.

"Yes, you do," their leader replied firmly, drawing her apprentice in a tight hug. "You deserve all of it. Why wouldn't you?"

Sam opened her mouth to speak, when behind Maddie's back Tucker made a fierce gesture for her to be silent. The ghost hunter shot her team mate a pleading look, begging him to allow her to speak unhindered. _You don't understand_, she mouthed, as she stared her best friend down desperately. But Tucker shook his head, his face set in somber determination that the ghost hunter knew that she was too drained to combat in her present state. And before Sam could help it, the moment had passed, and Maddie had released her, still shell-shocked, from the hug.

"I'm proud of you, Sam," Maddie smiled. She squeezed her apprentice's shoulders in encouragement, before turning to leave.

_I have the Ring of Rage_, Sam willed herself to blurt out. But under her mentor's tender gaze, she somehow couldn't bring herself to. _You're being a coward,_ bile rose to the back of the ghost hunter's throat in self-disgust. _An even worse one than Phantom ever was._

Helplessly, Sam watched as her mentor departed, before sinking weakly to the floor in a small, near lifeless heap.

"You shouldn't have kept that from us," Tucker grunted, joining Sam on the floor. "Val'll be mad for a while, but let's just hope that she gets over it, eventually."

"I didn't know," Sam replied weakly. "Really, I didn't. Don't you think I would have argued with Maddie in private if I'd known? We both know that I don't deserve this. Especially after how I went against her orders to seek out Phantom."

_And you don't know the half of it,_ Sam added bitterly to herself. _After what happened between us last night, I should be branded a blood traitor. I don't even deserve to still be a member of our brethren._

"I'm not going to assume that Val isn't thinking along similar lines," her best friend conceded. "Val may be angry, but she's no traitor. You're not going to have to worry about her selling you out for revenge."

"I never thought she would," the ghost hunter replied, aghast by Tucker's unnecessary reassurances. "She's my partner. But I don't want this," Sam managed out. "I don't deserve any of this. Tucker, what should I do?" For the first time since entire world had been shaken by Phantom's visit to her atop the balcony at her home, Maddie's apprentice didn't fight back the hot tears that seeped from her eyes, squeezing her eyes shut to clear her vision.

"I don't know," Tucker frowned thoughtfully, his expression far away as his eyes brightened with dim hope. "For all we know, your association with Phantom could be a good thing."

"Tucker, I –" Sam managed out shakily, as she struggled to phrase her confession. She had never planned to inform anyone about the Ring of Rage other than her mentor, but having failed that, the ghost hunter found herself overcome by a desperate urge to share the knowledge with her team member before she was once again hopelessly outmaneuvered into withholding the information.

"He cares for you," her tech operative interjected. "We know that much. Why else would he keep trying to protect you from harm? And he's sought you out in the past," her best friend rubbed his chin in consideration. "And nothing has ever indicated that he would hesitate to do it again."

"Where are you going with this?" It was an empty question, for Sam already knew, bitter bile working its way up her throat as she waited for Tucker to state the inevitable.

"We could bait him out into the open, and use him to barter for the safety of Amity Park," Tucker made no move to quell the cautious enthusiasm on his features. "With the attack squads now at your command, you now have the authority to organise an ambush and attempt to capture Phantom. Maddie'll never have to know that you were the bait."

"It'll never work," Sam's voice acquired a frosty edge. "Phantom is too powerful."

"For a single team on patrol, maybe," conviction began to flood Tucker's tone. "But pitch Phantom against all two hundred odd of our brethren, and we'll be left with a fighting chance. I thought you'd be happy," her tech operative subjected her to a strange look. "You _despise_ Phantom."

"I do," Sam lied, choking on her own words.

"And now that he no longer has the Empire behind him we've been granted the opportunity to take him down for good…" her tech operative grinned enthusiastically, searching the ghost hunter's features for a smile. "Isn't this what you've been waiting for, Sam? And if you give Valerie a share of the glory, I'm sure that she'll come around sooner and forgive you."

"I don't know," the ghost hunter mumbled helplessly.

"Don't you want Val's forgiveness, Sam?" puzzlement overtook Tucker's features.

"Of course I do," Sam whispered. "That goes without saying."

"Then what's bothering you?" he questioned, punching her lightly on the shoulder.

Sam couldn't bring herself to snuff out the faint spark of hope that had ignited in her best friend's eyes.

"But what if we fail?" Sam queried in defeat, hunching over as she propped her head onto her knees, burying her face in her crossed arms. "We can't risk the lives of the entire Brotherhood on a single move."

"Simple," her tech operative smirked. "You're just going to have to make him an offer that he can't refuse."

**Author's Notes:** Sorry the update took so long! You can blame Chaos Dragon for trying to get me hooked on NationStates2!

And I wouldn't want to be Sam right now, poor girl. And thanks go to _bloodmoon_ on DA for her amazing remake of the AA prologue comic!!

Concrit is greatly appreciated, as usual! :D

**Huggles,**

**Twisted**


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